Respect
by HermioneGirl96
Summary: A Lizzie Bennet Diaries fic. What if Lizzie had confronted Darcy about breaking up Jane and Bing before Darcy had confessed his love for her? How would Darcy have responded to Lizzie's criticism if he hadn't already made himself so vulnerable to her? No longer a one-shot.
1. The Confrontation

Lizzie Bennet is furious. Fitz has just finished helping her make a care package for Jane, and in the process he's revealed that Darcy intentionally broke up Bing and Jane. Lizzie has asked Charlotte to make her excuses to Ms. de Burgh because she's almost certain that she'll throttle anyone who makes a sudden movement in her vicinity just now.

She's also completely certain that she will neither rest nor calm down until she has confronted Darcy. She managed to extract Darcy's cell phone number from Fitz before he left. It took effort to sound natural, but she's honed her acting skills through months of costume theater. It's outrageous that she doesn't have Darcy's number by now, anyway. They lived under the same roof for a month, for goodness' sake.

Lizzie dials the number Fitz gave her and waits.

Darcy picks up on just the second ring. "You have reached William Darcy," he intones, his bass voice rumbling gruffly out of the speakers of Lizzie's ancient cell phone.

"Come. Here. Now."

"Who is this? Is this a joke?"

"It's Lizzie."

"Lizzie!" Is that . . . _happiness_ in his tone? Of course not. "Are you all right?"

"All right? No, I am not all right! Now come here."

"Where is 'here'?"

"My office—Charlotte's office at Collins and Collins. Third floor, second door—"

"I know which office is hers. Should I fetch Charlotte? She might be better able to help—"

"No. Just come here. Now."

"On my way." The line is dead before Lizzie can lower the phone from her ear.

Lizzie is pacing when Darcy bursts in less than two minutes later. He is breathing hard and his tie is askew. Despite gasping for air, he speaks immediately. "Lizzie! Thank goodness you're unscathed! What—"

"How could you do that to my sister?" Lizzie screams. She does not know how recently Darcy has shouted the same words himself.

"I—what?"

"You broke up Bing and Jane! You took my caring, sensitive, wonderful sister's heart and tore it to shreds when the decision wasn't even yours to make! And _why_? Because you thought she was in it for the _money_? The money. Jane. You looked at sweet, amazing, perfect Jane and you decided she was in it for the money, and so you turned Bing against her without even giving Jane a chance to explain herself."

"She gave me no reason to think her true feelings extended beyond her general kindness."

"No reason? No _reason_? Are you kidding me? I mean, sure, she's nice to everybody, it's who she is, she's Jane—but would it have killed you to give her the benefit of the doubt and let things run their course?"

"Perhaps not this time, but last time, yes, it would have."

"What?"

"Giving someone the benefit of the doubt . . . suffice it to say it wouldn't have been the first time someone close to me had been taken advantage of for the sake of monetary gain."

"I think it's a wonder that anyone's ever gotten close to you _without_ such an incentive, given how unpleasant you are."

Darcy flinches but presses on. "Lizzie. This isn't a joke, and it's not paranoia."

Lizzie snorts. "Sure."

Darcy takes a deep breath and stops looking at Lizzie for the first time since arriving in Charlotte's office. He fixes his gaze on the side wall instead. "Recently, an . . . old friend . . . took—advantage . . . of my little sister. As . . . revenge for a . . . perceived—grievance. It . . . very nearly . . . shattered her. I cannot . . . risk letting . . . anything like that . . . ever happen again. I . . . apologize if . . . I have been . . . overly—careful."

Lizzie's head is spinning. She wordlessly gestures to Darcy to sit down and then begins rummaging in Charlotte's desk for some tissues.

It takes Darcy several minutes to stop crying. Lizzie cannot recall a time when she felt more embarrassed, but whether the emotion is more for herself or for Darcy, she cannot decide. Her feet tap, her knees bounce, her hands clench and unclench. She looks at the floor, the ceiling, the walls, her lap. There is no escape from the discomfort.

Finally, Darcy blows his nose, takes a shaky breath, and says, "I suppose I understand the feeling that your sister's heart has been broken with insidious intent."

"Oh, no. God, no. No. Jane's fine. I mean, she locked herself in her room for two days and crafted and then she had a brief meltdown but she's been functional ever since. I think she still misses Bing, and she's been sending me care packages, which means she's sad, but basically she's fine. It's nothing like what you and your sister experienced. Are you all right? Would you like some tea?"

Darcy looks at Lizzie for the first time since he mentioned his sister. "I am all right. I . . . have never shown this much emotion about . . . what happened . . . before. Georgiana's needs have always taken precedence. Thank you, Lizzie." Darcy rises.

"Wait." Lizzie catches Darcy's sleeve. "You're in no state to rejoin the outside world."

"Then I am certainly in no state to provide you with satisfactory company."

"Darcy . . . please. Let me get you that tea, all right?"

Darcy sits as Lizzie rises. A few minutes later, they are both seated once again, now each clutching a mug of tea.

"I was not aware until this evening of how deeply you disliked me," Darcy says after his first sip of tea.

Lizzie grimaces. "I'm sorry."

"Why? I can hardly pretend I do not understand the impulse to protect one's sister and harm those who have hurt her."

"But I assumed your acts were malicious. I refused to contemplate other potential motives."

"I suppose you were unfair, but then I know as well as anyone how difficult it is to be fair when one feels that one's sister has been ill-used."

"But it wasn't just then." Lizzie takes a deep breath. "I wasn't just unfair to you after I found out about what you did to Jane. I hated you this whole time."

Darcy's face goes blotchily pale. "H—hated?" His voice is no steadier than it was when he spoke of his sister.

"I mean, our first dance was just about the most awkward experience of my life—well, prior to tonight—and then you said rude things about me afterward and then you seemed to be mocking me the whole time we were at Netherfield—you have a _checklist_ for what constitutes an accomplished woman, which is not anywhere in the neighborhood of okay—and then I suspected you of meddling with Bing and Jane." Lizzie tilts her head to one side and peers at Darcy through narrowed eyes. "Oh yeah, and then I talked to George Wickham."

Darcy sets his mug on Charlotte's desk so hastily that tea sloshes onto her papers, and then he flees the room mutely. Lizzie stares at the open office door for a moment and then sets down her tea, picks up the tissue box, and runs after Darcy.

"Darcy! I didn't mean to make you cry! Or to make you leave! I don't feel like this conversation is over."

The heavy footsteps slow and Lizzie tracks them through the labyrinthine corridors of Collins and Collins. All at once she rounds a corner and finds Darcy staring at her from the opposite end of the hall.

"I doubt continued companionship would be in either of our best interests. However, there is one thing I must tell you before I cease to inflict my presence upon you." Darcy draws a deep, shuddering breath and stares at the ceiling. "It was George Wickham."

"What was George Wickham?"

"He was the one who . . . that is, ah . . . with my sister."

"Oh, my God."

"I will stop bothering you." Darcy turns to leave.

"Bothering me? _Who_ just chased _whom_ down a corridor?"

Darcy turns back to Lizzie and gives her a small, sad smile. "You have my gratitude for your generosity. I assure you that I will be fine."

Lizzie laughs past the lump in her throat. "I have not been generous."

"You have attempted to comfort someone you hate. How else should I characterize your actions?"

"Maybe they're stemming from the belated realization that my reasons for hating you weren't as solid as I thought they were."

Darcy bites his lip. Lizzie strides forward, hands him the box of tissues, and sits down on the floor with her back against the wall. When Darcy doesn't join her, she says, "Come on. Your shirt is already tearstained. You may as well wrinkle your pants and get it over with. I mean, if you—well, I mean, I just think—that is, just—"

Darcy settles on the floor next to Lizzie. "For someone who hates me, you seem pretty eager to continue spending time with me."

"As I've been trying to tell you, I'm not sure I can hate you anymore." There is a pause. "Um, if you can tell me—and it's okay if you can't—what exactly happened with George Wickham? I, uh, I got his side of the story—something about being denied a college fund . . . I believed him—it fit with what I thought of you—but after tonight I can't continue thinking that your nature is one hundred percent cruel." She gestures at him. "If you were going to fake cry, it wouldn't look like this."

Darcy draws a shaky breath, sighs unsteadily, and tries again. This time he speaks. "George Wickham and I were friends growing up. His family didn't have as much money as mine, so my parents paid for him to do things with us when he wouldn't have been able to afford to come along otherwise. Funding his higher education was an obvious next step. My parents started his college savings account just a couple of years after they started Georgiana's."

"My, um, my parents—ahem—died when I was sixteen. Georgiana was twelve. We moved in with our aunt, Catherine de Burgh—I hear you two have met—but when I turned eighteen I got control of the finances. I was accepted at Harvard and George had committed to Stanford and the plan was for me to manage both sets of tuition. But George came to me and said he wanted to control his account himself. Said it would make him feel more like an adult, his own man, not a charity case. I consented. We did the paperwork and the account was his.

"He ran out of money in less than a year. I still don't understand how he managed that. Two hundred thousand dollars . . . He came and asked me for more. Told me he'd made a mistake and he'd learned his lesson and he deserved a second chance. I said no. It would have been different if it had been an indiscretion of a few thousand dollars, but two hundred thousand—! Besides, the future was uncertain for Georgiana and myself, and I needed to make sure that the resources our parents had left us would be available to fall back on if necessary.

"For a while, I thought I would never hear from George again. Years passed. And then, I made a surprise visit to the condominium Georgiana was living in while at UCLA. I found the two of them—"

"I can guess," says Lizzie quickly.

Darcy clears his throat and blushes. His face isn't as blotchy as before. "Right. In any event, he had turned her against me. She hated me. It was my fault, of course—I'd pushed her so hard that she hadn't felt good enough for me, and it had been easy for George to prey on her insecurity. I told George to get the hell away from my sister, and Georgiana screamed that George loved her as I never had, and . . ." Darcy squeezes his eyes shut tight. "I had to show Georgiana what was really happening. I wrote a ten thousand dollar check and told George it was his if he never had any contact with my sister again. He took it and ran. The fallout was . . . rough."

On an impulse, Lizzie takes Darcy's hand. Darcy looks down at their hands and then up at her face.

"It's what Jane would do," she says. "She'd be more help to you than I am in this kind of situation."

Darcy squeezes Lizzie's hand. "I think you're doing just fine."

"Yeah? Let's see. I dragged you away from your work, yelled at you for something I didn't understand, made you cry, made you run away, refused to leave you alone, and forced you to confess your deepest secrets to me. Are you sure that's 'just fine'?"

"My work can wait, your anger was understandable, you weren't trying to make me cry, you had no idea of the effect that George Wickham's name would have on me, I'm glad you followed me, and you didn't force me to do anything."

"You are disturbingly good at responding to points in sequence."

"I am a CEO, Lizzie. It comes with the territory." He looks at her. "You said you used to hate me, but you're not sure you can anymore?"

Lizzie squeezes Darcy's hand. "I know I can't."

"I had no idea how you felt about me."

"Thank goodness I'm so good at acting, right?"

"Well—had I known your objections to me, I may have attempted to improve my behavior, and I certainly would not have considered doing the thing I've been trying to work up the courage to do since I got to Collins and Collins."

"Oh? And what is that?"

Darcy looks away, takes a deep breath, and then looks back at Lizzie. "Confessing my love for you."

Lizzie's head hits the wall, hard, as she stiffens in shock. "You—your— _what_?"

Darcy draws his hand away from Lizzie's. Her fingers have splayed open anyway. "I apologize. I should not have said that. I had overstepped boundaries already by telling you too much about my sister and George Wickham, and I thought perhaps I was better off just telling you everything, now that I was so far in, but clearly I miscalculated. I'm sorry. Are you all right? That was a nasty crack when your head hit the wall."

Lizzie leans forward and rubs the back of her head gingerly. "I _think_ I'm okay. I don't have double vision, at least. That's supposed to be one of the signs that you've got a concussion, right?"

"Oh no, do you think you have a concussion? I can call nine-one-one—"

"I said I _don't_ have double vision. Relax. There's no need to overreact."

"I am not overreacting."

Lizzie gives an incredulous snort, which seems to convince Darcy that she is unharmed. He fiddles with his tie and says, "Um, I should—"

Lizzie catches his sleeve for the second time that night. "Wait. As long as we're confessing things, there's something I should tell you."

Darcy raises one eyebrow. "Oh?"

"I—I have a video blog. I've been doing it since the spring. I, um, I've talked about you on there a lot. And, um, I haven't been kind. Actually, uh, I'm pretty sure you could sue me for libel. Several times over. I mean, obviously I'd rather you didn't, but . . . yeah. I can delete the videos if you want me to, but I have hundreds of thousands of viewers and I think they'd be mad and the videos are already, like, out there, you know? I'm really sorry."

"How can I find these videos?"

"Oh, God. Please don't."

"If you wish me to respect your privacy—"

"No, that's not what I meant. I posted them on the Internet. I've already signed away my privacy. I just—I'm ashamed of how hard I was on you, and I don't want to hurt you more than I already have tonight."

"I assure you that I will be grateful for any and all insight into your mind that the videos can provide."

Lizzie stares at him. "You—wow. You really weren't kidding about loving me, were you?"

Darcy straightens up as much as he can while seated on the floor. "I do not joke about such things."

Lizzie half-smiles. "I am coming to realize as much. I'm really sorry about tonight. I—I thought I was so clever and rational and unbiased and perceptive, but apparently I've been wrong about a lot of things for a long time."

Darcy returns the half-smile. "I have likewise taken pride in my intelligence and fairness, and I have made at least as many mistakes."

"I'm sorry about your sister."

"As am I about yours."

"Do you think Bing still likes Jane?"

"I'm not sure. He certainly has not leapt into new flirtations as I had expected him to. I should have realized that my inability to accurately predict his actions was a sign of larger flaws in my perception."

"Will you talk to him?"

"About Jane?"

"Please."

"I am unsure as to whether—"

"Just try. Please."

Darcy smiles at the interruption. "Very well, Lizzie."

Lizzie stares at him. "That's the first time I've ever convinced you to do something! And you're _smiling_!"

Darcy blushes and does not meet her gaze.

Lizzie suddenly finds herself giggling. "Oh, God, you've got it bad, don't you?"

Darcy reddens further. "I will neither confirm nor deny that."

Lizzie continues giggling. "Spoken like a true CEO."

Darcy finally eyes her. "In the interest of clarification and balanced disclosure, what is your current stance toward me?"

Lizzie eyes him back. "Respect."

Darcy smiles and stands. "Thank you for an enlightening evening, Lizzie Bennet."

Lizzie stands as well. Her head barely reaches his shoulder. "Likewise," she says, and smiles.


	2. Charlotte

**Disclaimer: Jane Austen created these beautiful characters, and then Hank Green and Bernie Su refined them. I hope they would understand the thrill of working with characters one has not invented but has already come to know and love.**

 **A/N: This is the first time a one-shot of mine has turned into something longer. I do not promise this will happen again. But for now, hold on, because this story shows no signs of stopping.**

When Lizzie turns on her phone the next morning, she sees a text from Darcy that says, "I have watched all of your videos and I desire to speak with you. Don't worry. I'm not angry. -WD." Lizzie raises her eyebrows for a moment—who _signs_ their texts?—but then she notices a more immediate cause for surprise: the timestamp on the message reads 3:29 a.m. Now that she thinks about it, there are a lot of videos. And Darcy just watched them all in one night?

It's 7:09 a.m. now. Lizzie considers waiting to respond until later—it's certainly tempting, especially since her head is still spinning from last night and she has no idea how to react to Darcy's text. Waiting might also be good manners, in case Darcy sleeps with his phone on; it would be rude to wake him up less than four hours after he got to bed. But then, although she isn't sure, Lizzie imagines that Darcy may not be sleeping soundly after the evening they had, and perhaps he's been impatiently awaiting a return text from her for over three and a half hours now. Or perhaps, sensible and health-conscious as he is, Darcy sleeps with his phone off and Lizzie should respond promptly and allow him to discover her reply on his own schedule.

Procrastination is in Lizzie's nature, but she senses that now, of all times, she should fight the urge to postpone her obligations. Last night's conversation had an urgency, depth, and desperation that no term paper or project has ever possessed, and—especially given her own role in Darcy's distress—Lizzie feels compelled to respond to Darcy as she has never really felt compelled by her teachers' expectations. She keeps tapping the screen so that her phone won't go dark while she tries to think of a response. In the LED light, the lone speech bubble containing Darcy's missive sits atop a long stretch of blank whiteness, the keyboard lurking at the bottom. The display of Darcy's text message is both lofty and lonely, perhaps a mirror of the man himself. Lizzie cannot pretend to understand him well enough to be certain of her metaphor. She has made that mistake before, but now she knows that Darcy is neither a robot nor a newsie, and she is hesitant about pigeonholing him once again.

At 7:17, she finally taps out, "Let me know when and where you would like to talk. Thank you for not being angry." Then—since Dr. Gardiner once emphasized the importance of taking your interlocutor's lead when it comes to the style and register of communication—Lizzie signs her text "-LB."

Lizzie is brushing her hair a minute later when her phone pings. She sets down her hairbrush and checks her phone. There's a new text message from William Darcy. "How soon can you be at Collins and Collins? -WD."

"Charlotte?" Lizzie calls in the direction of the bedroom.

Charlotte responds by opening her door and coming out into the living room, where Lizzie has been sleeping on the couch and, well, living for the past few weeks. Charlotte is already fully dressed and appears ready to leave. "Yeah?"

"When were you planning on going in to work today?"

"What did Darcy say?"

Lizzie tries to maintain a poker face. "Darcy? Who said anything about him?"

"You talked to him last night, and you dislike him less than you used to, so something big is up between you and him, and I heard your phone go off—your ringer isn't exactly quiet. Everything adds up."

"You know, sometimes your intimate knowledge of me is really obnoxious."

Charlotte grins. "What are besties good for?"

Lizzie rolls her eyes. "You haven't answered my question."

"You haven't answered mine."

"I asked first."

"Fine. I was planning on leaving in about fifteen minutes, if that's enough time for you."

Lizzie resumes brushing her hair. "That should be enough time."

"So? What did Darcy say?"

Lizzie sighs. "That he watched all the videos, that he's _not mad_ (somehow), that he'd like to talk to me, and that he wants to know how soon I can be at Collins and Collins."

"You can tell him we'll be there in about half an hour." Lizzie texts Darcy the answer immediately while Charlotte wanders toward the kitchen and then turns back to Lizzie. "Hey, don't you have a video due today?"

Lizzie's pulse quickens. "Oh my God, you're right. I filmed something with Fitz yesterday . . . Could you be the greatest bestie in the history of ever and edit the footage and upload it for me? You don't need to do anything fancy, just cut out any weird stretches of silence. I know you've got work but I really don't think I'm going to be able to get to it this morning."

Charlotte picks up a banana and peels it. "You could just postpone your meeting with Darcy."

Lizzie clasps her hands together. "Pleeeeeeeaaase?"

Charlotte swallows a bit of banana. "Only if you tell me everything that happened between you and Darcy last night. I can tell you're holding out on me."

Lizzie joins Charlotte in the kitchen and selects an apple. "Fine." She takes a bite of the apple and chews for as long as she can to give herself time to think. "I got mad at him about Jane, like I said, and then he said he doubted whether Jane actually liked Bing, and then I said he should have given Jane the benefit of the doubt, and he said he was really cautious because things had gone wrong before with his sister, and then he cried and—"

"You told me all of this already. I know there's more to the story."

Lizzie squirms for a minute and then relents. "I told you how he ran off after I mentioned George Wickham. He actually left without a word. I told you he'd said George was the one who messed with his sister before he left, but actually that just made the story easier. What really happened was that Darcy ran away and I chased him down the corridor."

"Ha!"

"What?"

"Oh, nothing. Go on. You haven't finished the story."

"You are hiding something from me, Charlotte Lu."

"So are you, and this time _I_ asked first."

Lizzie heaves a dramatic sigh. " _Fine_. Darcy stopped running and I caught up with him and then he said George Wickham had messed with his sister, and then he tried to excuse himself, like _he_ was the one bothering _me_ —"

"I mean, he _had_ just found out you hated him."

"But—but—but I called the meeting, _and_ I chased him down the corridor—"

"Maybe he just wanted to get out of there and figured it would sound more polite if he made it seem like he was trying to respect your wishes."

"Oh God, do you think he doesn't want to talk to me now? Should I tell him I can't come?"

"First of all, when did you get so concerned about Darcy's feelings? Secondly, it's one thing to try to escape a situation you're already in; it's another thing to instigate a situation you don't want. Speaking of which, did you let Darcy leave?"

Lizzie takes another bite of the apple and prolongs chewing once again. "No. I wanted to know what really happened with George Wickham! It wasn't like I was suddenly desperate for Darcy's company or anything."

"Right. Which is why you're taking your sweet time when it comes to seeing him today." Charlotte finishes the banana and throws the peel away before pouring herself a bowl of cereal.

"More has happened since then," Lizzie grumbles.

"Like what?"

"He told me what happened with George Wickham, like I told you last night. George used up his entire college fund in less than a year and disappeared for a while and then took advantage of Darcy's sister for financial gain. Darcy cried while he was talking about it, so I took his hand—that's what Jane would have done, and I just wanted to be like her, so don't get any funny little ideas—and then I told him I didn't hate him anymore. And then he said that if he'd known I hated him, he wouldn't have been trying to work up the courage to declare his love for me."

Charlotte drops her spoon into her cereal bowl and pays no attention to the milk that splashes onto the table. "WHAT?!"

Lizzie blushes (curse her redheaded genes). "Yeah. So I responded about like you did just now, and then Darcy said he overstepped his boundaries, but then he started freaking out that I had a concussion, because my head hit the wall when he told me, since I was so shocked. I reassured him in the concussion department and then I told him about the videos—"

Charlotte drops her spoon again. This time it lands on the table and the cereal flies briefly upward before landing scattered around the spoon. "SERIOUSLY?!"

Lizzie shrugs. "I felt like I owed him, you know? Since he'd just told me so many of his secrets." She stands and finds some paper towels. "I think you'd better be done with the cereal."

Charlotte looks down and realizes the mess she's made. She takes the paper towels from Lizzie and starts wiping up the milk. "So . . . what happened with the videos? You said he watched them, but I thought maybe you were joking."

"Nope. This is definitely real. I told him that I hadn't been kind to him on the videos and I didn't want him to watch them, but he said he'd 'be grateful for any and all insight' that the videos could provide into my mind, so I said okay. And then we both apologized for making assumptions about each other, and then he asked me if I still hated him, and I said I was coming to respect him, and he thanked me for an enlightening evening, and then we left."

"And you're sure you've told me the whole story this time?"

Lizzie smiles. "I forget nothing."

"That doesn't mean you tell me everything. You definitely didn't last night."

"I'm sorry, okay? It was just a lot to process."

"So Darcy seriously watched all the videos?"

"Apparently. At least, that's what his text said."

"And he's not mad?"

"Again, all I've got to go on is the text."

"You know, I'm starting to think this guy is seriously in love with you."

"Yeah, I think he might be. Which is weird." Lizzie shakes her head for a minute before asking, "So, what are you hiding from me?"

"I totally knew he was into you."

Lizzie rolls her eyes. "You did not."

"I did so."

Lizzie tosses her half-eaten apple into the trash. "Can we talk about this in the car?"

Charlotte grins. "You _like_ him!"

"I do not!" Lizzie replies too fast.

Charlotte keeps grinning and nudges Lizzie a little too hard. "Remember Robbie Hathaway?"

"This isn't middle school anymore, Charlotte!"

"No, but my bestie telepathy has only gotten stronger with time."

Lizzie sticks her nose in the air. "The improvement is only in your imagination."

"Just admit it! You like him! It's okay—he's rich, handsome, single, and _totally_ into you. You're allowed to fall for him."

"Ugh, you sound like my mother."

"I'm not wrong," Charlotte insisted in her obnoxious sing-songy voice.

"Can we talk about this in the car? No, scratch that. We're not talking about this at all. This is not a conversation! We're just going to go to the car and change the subject and get to Collins and Collins as fast as we can."

"I'm not driving you anywhere until you admit you like him."

Lizzie's mouth works soundlessly for a minute, and then she stands and manages to speak. "Fine. _I_ know where you keep your keys. There are two sides to bestie telepathy, after all."

"So you admit it. I do have bestie telepathy. I'm right about you liking him."

Lizzie turns around, throwing her arms wide. "I said we're _not talking about this_ , Charlotte!" She opens the drawer near the door, takes the keys, and opens the door to leave.

Charlotte leaps up and hurries after her. "You can't just _take my keys_. I need to get to work! We can stop talking about Darcy, but you can't just threaten to steal my source of transportation."

Lizzie drops the keys into Charlotte's open hand. "Fine. But you have to stop asking me about Darcy."

Charlotte holds up her hands. "Okay. I didn't realize how much it was bothering you."

The two walk together in silence to the parking garage of Charlotte's apartment building, get into her car, and start driving. They're halfway to Collins and Collins when Charlotte says, "I know you hate changing your mind, and this is really big and fast. This has got to be hard for you."

"We're not talking about it," Lizzie grumbles.

Charlotte nods. "Right." The two are silent the rest of the drive. Lizzie bolts out of the vehicle and toward the building before Charlotte even has a chance to turn off her car.

 **A/N: That's obviously supposed to be a bit of a cliffhanger. There is more coming. Watch for it next Monday.**


	3. The Cafe

**Disclaimer: I don't own these characters.**

Darcy is waiting in the lobby, dressed in a crisp suit. Everything from his hair to his shoes looks immaculate, with the exception of his face. Lizzie was right in suspecting that Darcy wasn't able to sleep well after seeing the videos. The bags under his eyes look like the papery purple skin of a red onion and the rest of his face is as pale as the onion's inside. He leaps to his feet as soon as Lizzie walks in. "Lizzie!" He seems unable to say more.

"Darcy," Lizzie returns. "Hi?" She doesn't mean for it to sound like a question, but it comes out that way regardless.

Charlotte enters the lobby and crosses it with only a quick eyebrow-raised glance at Lizzie (thankfully). Nevertheless, Darcy's eyes track Charlotte's progress all the way to the elevator. Only once Charlotte has disappeared does he return his gaze to Lizzie. "We should, um, go. Before more people walk in."

"Right. Good idea." Lizzie follows Darcy back to the parking lot she so recently left and to a black sports car sitting at the edge of the lot.

"It's a rental," says Darcy jerkily. "Would you, uh, come with me? There's a cafe that I—not that this would be a date or anything—"

"Fine. Sure. Yes."

Darcy clicks the unlock button on his keys and both of them climb inside the car and buckle their seatbelts. Darcy is careful as he puts the car in reverse and backs out of his parking space, but once they leave the parking lot, he stops checking his mirrors so frequently, although his already tucked-in chin pulls back all the way to his neck. "Thank you," he says, still sounding clipped, "for, uh, coming with me. And trusting my driving skills."

Lizzie rolls her eyes. "Please. You're so uptight that I bet you can't even break a traffic law in your dreams. Although"—she glances at him—"you might not be driving as well as usual, given how little sleep you got."

Darcy stops smoothly at a stoplight. "I assure you that I am not sufficiently indisposed for my attention or fine motor skills to be compromised."

Lizzie steals another glance. "I do trust that you're not going to crash. Even though most impaired drivers can't tell when they're impaired."

Darcy signals a right turn and then parks on the side of the street. "Well, here we are. I trust you can see that I am not, in fact, impaired."

"Wait, we're here already? We could have walked!"

"I was uncertain as to the comfort of your footwear."

Lizzie looks down at her feet. She's wearing heels; it would have felt unprofessional not to, after all. "Oh. Well, thanks, I guess."

The corners of Darcy's mouth move ever so slightly upward, just for a moment. Then he turns toward the door and holds it open for Lizzie, who rolls her eyes once again and then enters the otherwise empty cafe. Darcy follows. It's a charming little place, clearly locally owned, with little wooden tables and chairs scattered around a bit haphazardly. The decorations are all in chocolate brown with teal accents. Lizzie scans the menu that hangs above the baristas' counter.

"I'm paying," says Darcy.

Lizzie looks back over her shoulder and cranes her neck to look at Darcy's face rather than his chest. "You said this wasn't a date."

"It's not a date. I simply have more disposable income than you. Therefore, I'm paying."

Lizzie crosses her arms. "No. That would make this a date."

"Surely your egalitarian ideals can cope with a wealthy person buying something for a person of more modest means."

"There's a difference between egalitarianism and charity."

Darcy blinks. "This matters to you."

"Yes."

"Very well." He steps forward to the baristas' counter, orders a large cup of earl grey tea without milk or sugar, pays, and then steps back to let Lizzie do the same. She looks at him in mild surprise before stepping forward and ordering a mocha. She's only satisfied that Darcy's really not going to try to pay for her when she actually hands her own money to the cashier and receives her change. Then there's an awkward couple of minutes of standing around in silence waiting for the drinks. Lizzie doesn't know what to say, especially considering that she would need to manage both _talking to Darcy_ and _talking in front of the cafe employees_ simultaneously. Since Darcy doesn't say anything either, she suspects he's in the same bind. Small talk has never been his forte, anyway.

Finally, the drinks arrive. By some silent agreement, Lizzie and Darcy both head for the table furthest from the counter. As soon as they take their seats, Darcy says, "I need to apologize."

Lizzie blinks. " _You_ need to apologize? You saw all those videos and the first thing you want to say is that _you_ need to apologize?"

"I was inexcusably rude to you the night we met."

"After which I made a video in which I did nothing but mock you."

"You didn't want to talk about me at all. Your first video about the wedding was about Jane and Bing. Charlotte and Jane goaded you into talking about me."

"I still mocked you. And I don't understand why you're making excuses for me. The video about the wedding was nothing compared to the later videos—the ones from Netherfield and especially the ones from the past few weeks. I called you a _robot_."

Darcy looks out the window over Lizzie's shoulder. "And a newsie." Then he looks back at Lizzie. "I must admit to some disappointment with regard to the Netherfield videos. I was trying to get closer to you, to at least become friends if nothing else, and you misinterpreted my every action."

Lizzie feels a hot spike of anger push its way from her stomach into her chest. "There are only so many ways to interpret a _checklist_ for accomplished womanhood."

Darcy flinches. "I know. And I apologize. I . . . it's no excuse, but, as I said last night, I lived with my Aunt Catherine for a couple of years after my parents died, before I left for college. I have tried to resist some of her prejudices, but I admit that I have absorbed more of them than I realized. As you convey in your videos, she certainly has high standards for female accomplishment." He sighs. "But, as I said, it's no excuse. My checklist was unreasonable and bordered on misogyny. It was awful of me to have one in the first place, and it was especially rude of me to bring it up in your company. I am sorry."

Lizzie sighs, too. "Apology accepted." She tilts her head to one side, as if seeing Darcy at a 15 degree angle will help her understand him better. "You really were trying to ask me to dance, weren't you? When you commented on the speakers."

"Yes. Although I cannot promise it would have been much less stiff than our first dance."

Lizzie laughs. "That comment about preferring the gramophone sound was still totally snobby."

Darcy lowers his head, no longer looking at Lizzie. "I was unaware of the extent to which my upbringing and social class were influencing my interactions. I apologize for the discomfort I have caused you, and I will endeavor to make amends going forward. If you would be so kind as to remain in contact with me, I would appreciate your feedback."

"Apology accepted. And yes, that sounds like a good plan. Although I'm not sure if you really want my feedback. Thus far it's mostly consisted of insults. Public insults. On the internet. Without your permission."

Darcy raises his head and looks Lizzie in the eye. "I was clearly in need of a blunt wake-up call. You have provided it. You don't need to apologize."

"Yes, I do. I've given you a pretty rough 24 hours, haven't I?"

"I admit the experience has not been pleasant. But I believe it has been for the best." He takes a sip of his tea. "Although, having seen your videos, I am more confused than ever about everything that has happened between Bing and Jane." He takes another sip. "Your passion last night made it clear that you believe Jane to have been serious about Bing. And your videos support that. She was more open about her feelings with you than she ever was when I was present. Yet that makes the incident at Bing's birthday party even stranger."

"What incident?"

Darcy takes a deep breath. "I saw Jane kissing another man."

Lizzie slams her fist on the table without planning to. Luckily, she and Darcy have both consumed enough of their drinks for nothing to spill, but both beverages slosh dangerously around in their mugs. "No."

Darcy looks pained. "I'm sorry, Lizzie, but I saw it with my own eyes."

"She would never—"

"It surprised me at the time. Jane had not seemed eager to rush the physical side of her relationship with Bing, nor did she seem the type to be duplicitous. But it had been difficult to discern whether she considered herself to be in a relationship with Bing in the first place, and it was simple enough to convince myself that she had simply been acting friendly toward Bing, or that she had not valued the relationship but had simply been interested in his money, and that in either case it would be best to extricate Bing from the situation, since he was clearly developing strong feelings for Jane and it would be dangerous to allow those feelings to grow. He is too trusting, and it would not have been the first time that a woman had pursued him with a greater interest in his wealth than his company.

"But having watched your videos, the kiss that I witnessed makes no sense at all. Neither promiscuity nor duplicity is in Jane's nature. Her feelings for Bing were definitely romantic, and Bing's unexplained departure clearly affected her deeply. Yet I know what I saw, Lizzie. I don't know what to make of it."

Lizzie sat there in disbelief for a moment before something clicked. "Oh, I know what to make of it. _Caroline_."

Darcy stares at Lizzie for a few seconds before nodding slowly. "Your videos have definitely given me new insights into Caroline's nature. She certainly lied to you at Netherfield—and, if she had already seen your videos when she helped me convince Bing that Jane had no real interest in him, then she cannot have been fully honest in that situation either."

"I bet she set it all up," Lizzie rejoins, getting excited now. "She knew that Bing and Jane were going to get together unless she did something about it, so she got one of Bing's college buddies drunk and shoved him at Jane just when you walked in."

Darcy takes a sip of his tea. "That is plausible. You're right to presume that I had scarcely entered the room when the kissing commenced." He takes another sip. "I apologize for making a hasty decision and interfering without complete information. It was not my intention to break Jane's heart, but I should have been more careful."

Lizzie nods. "I think we've got some phone calls to make before I can forgive you on that one."

Darcy looks at his mug. "Are you sure that further meddling is for the best? No matter how much sense your speculation makes, we still can't be sure about what happened."

"Jane _moved to L.A._ on the off-chance she'd run into Bing while she's there. The least we can do is to make sure that actually happens. We don't need to micromanage what happens once they see each other. But they both deserve at least a chance to talk. Neither of them has anything resembling the full story, and they'd both be better off with a little communication."

Darcy squirms and then says, "Fine."

"Why does this bother you?"

"I—it doesn't matter."

"Darcy, we've done pretty much every possible kind of awkward conversation and intimate confession in the past 24 hours. What do you have to lose at this point?"

Darcy squirms some more and then mutters into his mug, "I don't want Bing to know that I mistakenly destroyed his relationship with Jane. And it's hardly my place, or yours, to come between Bing and Caroline."

Lizzie looks at her own mug and sighs. "I suppose you're right, at least when it comes to Caroline. And it's hardly my place to ask you for more contrition after all the apologies you've already given me. But there has to be some way to communicate to Bing that he can at least get in contact with Jane, right?"

Darcy nods. "I'll see what I can do."

"Thanks." Lizzie takes a sip of her drink, and then another. She draws a breath, tries to speak, and then exhales fruitlessly. The process repeats a few times before she finally says, "So last night you said that you loved me."

"I do."

"You . . . do? Present tense? Even after you saw all my videos?"

"Yes. Lizzie, I deserved your censure. The only thing you really got wrong in your videos was the nature of my fallout with George Wickham, and we have discussed that at length. The rest of your opinions were reasonable, if not accurate. You opened my eyes to the negative effects of my pride, and for that I thank you. Meanwhile, your talent, energy, and intellect shine through each and every video you make. I could not help falling more and more deeply in love with you last night as I marathoned your videos. You have put my checklist to shame and shown me the importance of incisive wit, deep loyalty, and creativity. I cannot avoid being awed by your brilliance. Of course I am in love with you."

It's Lizzie's turn to squirm. She stares resolutely at her drink, mute with surprise and confusion.

"I—apologize. Once again I have said too much. I'm sorry for any awkwardness my forward remarks are causing you."

Lizzie laughs softly. "You're apologizing for being in love with me."

"For telling you I'm in love with you."

"Still." She manages to look up and meet Darcy's eyes briefly before returning her gaze to her mug. "I don't need more apologies. I'm just . . . confused."

"Charlotte did say you hate changing your mind."

Lizzie laughs again, nervously. "Yeah."

"You keep saying how rough the past 24 hours must have been for me. I can't imagine the difficulty has been anything other than mutual." Darcy looks back at his mug. "Dare I ask again about your current stance toward me?"

Lizzie squirms, takes a sip of her drink, and stares at her mug again. "I guess . . . I don't know how to put it. The respect is definitely growing, and I think we could maybe be friends, but that could get awkward given your, uh, feelings for me."

Darcy pushes his chair back from the table but doesn't stand. "I see."

"You do realize it's too early to ask me to reciprocate, right?"

"What?"

"I can't just fall in love with you overnight."

Darcy blushes. "Of course not."

Lizzie nods. "I'll see you around." She stands and then says, "Actually, I have an idea."

Darcy raises his eyebrows.

"My viewers are going to need an update about what's happened."

Darcy checks his watch. "Your video was due . . . half an hour ago."

Lizzie smiles. "Yeah, I filmed something with Fitz yesterday and begged Charlotte to edit it this morning. It should be live by now. But my next video . . . would you mind being in it?"

"What would you like me to say?"

"Well, the point of the video would be to say that I don't hate you anymore. So maybe you could explain a little bit about watching my videos and having some realizations? You don't have to say anything about your sister if you don't want to. Although maybe it would be good to say something about George Wickham, since my viewers have already heard his side of the story. If you don't mind, that is."

Darcy nods. "That sounds like a good idea."

 **A/N: Stay tuned for more next Monday! In the meantime, please favorite, follow, and review!**


	4. Costumes

**Disclaimer: These lovely characters do not belong to me.**

The drive back to Collins and Collins is too short for real conversation, so Lizzie and Darcy don't speak, at least not until they reach the parking lot. Then Lizzie says, "I've got a lot to explain to Charlotte."

Darcy makes a face that could either be a grimace or a wry smile. "And I to Fitz."

"Meet me in Charlotte's office at 12:30?"

"Um, yes. Unless you would, uh . . ."

"What?"

"Never mind."

"Come on, now you _have_ to tell me."

"I—don't suppose you'd like to have lunch with me first?"

Lizzie unbuckles her seatbelt. "I think one instance of jointly consuming food or beverages is enough for one day."

The two vacate the car and begin walking to the building. "Uh, yes, very well. I'll see you in a couple of hours."

Luckily for Lizzie, Charlotte is too busy with work to interrogate her about her non-date with Darcy, especially having spent at least an hour this morning editing Lizzie's most recent video. Lizzie wonders if she should just contact Darcy and offer to make the video now, but it occurs to her that Darcy's schedule might not be as free as her own. Besides, she should really draw up some sort of script or format for this video. Even if she's sometimes comfortable improvising, she probably won't feel at ease when Darcy is sharing the screen with her, and she certainly can't expect him to be a natural on camera, especially given his awkwardness in every other facet of life. So Lizzie spends the rest of the morning drafting different intros and conversations for her video with Darcy. The writing process feels even more surreal than usual, since normally, when Lizzie writes scripts, she either has input from her interlocutor or is simply transcribing a conversation verbatim.

At noon, Lizzie grabs a light lunch and then heads back to Charlotte's office, which she'll have to herself all afternoon thanks to Charlotte's meeting schedule. She's barely settled in when someone knocks on the door. Lizzie calls, "Come in!" and is not at all surprised when Darcy enters.

"So. This is where you film."

"Lately, yes." She pats the stool next to her. "Come on. Sit down." Darcy obeys with an anxious glance at the camera. "It's not on yet," Lizzie says in response to the unasked question. "I've been working on some scripts for the video. I don't know how much you're comfortable sharing, so there are scripts with and without mentions of your sister, with and without anything about your love declaration, and with and without explicit references to the conversations that led to all this new information."

"I'd like to leave my sister out of this, but we can give some details about the conversations. I'll leave the decision regarding the love declaration up to you."

Lizzie has been sorting through the morning's papers, setting aside the unnecessary scripts, but now she looks up. "Really?"

The corners of Darcy's mouth lift slightly. "I do not fall in love easily nor declare my affections hastily. I don't anticipate changing my mind about you or regretting last night's declaration. But I have glanced at your Twitter and Facebook pages, as well as the comments on your videos. I understand that there are many people who take an interest in your affairs, and I can only imagine how they will react to this news. If you would rather not deal with the fallout, you are entitled to omit whatever you like."

Lizzie purses her lips. "Tempting, but no, that's not fair. I've posted so much about Bing and Jane that it wouldn't be fair to keep secrets just for the sake of my own comfort. If their drama is fair game, then mine is too. Besides, I'm not sure if my viewers will understand why you're not mad at me unless they know about the love component."

"Speaking of Bing and Jane, I don't think it _was_ ethical of you to post that footage without Bing's consent."

"Ugh, I know. I'd like to blame Caroline, but I should have known better."

"You _did_ know better. You just ignored your conscience. It happens to everyone."

Lizzie smiles wryly. "Thanks." She hands Darcy a script and reads over his shoulder as he peruses it, just to refresh her memory.

After several minutes, Darcy closes the script and looks at Lizzie. "You plan on using costume theater."

"Are you okay with that? I can probably get Charlotte to do it tonight if you're not."

"No. It's all right. Although, as long as we're reenacting conversations, may I add one?"

"Um, sure? What did you have in mind?"

"My conversation last night with Fitz."

"Oh. Um, I don't have a costume for Fitz. Or for Charlotte, now that I think about it. We always just had our conversations in person."

Darcy stands, and this time there's no question as to whether he's smiling. "Come with me."

Lizzie rises slowly. "Where? Why?"

"You'll see when we get there."

"I don't think 18 hours of getting along is long enough for me to start letting you whisk me off to unknown locations."

"Fine. I'm proposing a trip to that party store where Fitz got that clown nose for Jane. They sell all kinds of costumes."

"Oh. Usually I just rummaged around for stuff in my attic."

"Well, given that your attic is no longer available to you—"

"Yeah, fine."

As the two make their way to the elevator, Darcy says, "Will you let me pay for these, at least? I am unaware of any cultural tropes involving men buying humorous costumes for their girlfriends."

"It depends on how narrowly you define 'humorous costumes.' But okay. I'd put up a fight if I weren't so cheap, but, well . . ."

"No need to explain." They're at Darcy's car by now. They get inside and buckle their seatbelts before continuing the conversation.

"A Fitz costume should be easy," says Lizzie while Darcy puts the car in reverse, "if we can find one. But how should we do a costume for Charlotte?"

"It's your vlog. How do you normally create costumes?"

"Well, Bing's costume was based on the first thing I heard about him, that he was a med student. Your costume was based on what you were wearing the first time I saw you. My mom's was meant to be as over-the-top as possible, because that's who she is. Jane's costume evolved—I started out just wearing one of her sweaters, but I couldn't go into her room and steal it every time I wanted to dress up as her, and it kind of looked like something I would wear, not like a costume. So then I settled on the flower because Jane is just so sweet and pretty and—I don't know, floral, somehow. And my dad's costume—well, he does smoke a pipe, but the overall look was supposed to be an old-fashioned male version of me."

It sounds like Darcy is choking. Lizzie looks over at him in concern, only to realize that this is what his laughter sounds like. She's never heard him laugh before. "And old-fashioned—male version—of you?"

"Yeah. We're actually a lot alike, my dad and I."

Darcy parks the car. Lizzie wonders if he feels the need to stop laughing before he can safely continue driving, but then she realizes that they've arrived at the party store. Huntsford is so _small_.

The party store is full to bursting with orange-and-black decorations, since it's almost Halloween. Lizzie and Darcy walk inside and head past the aisles of paper plates and balloons (nearly all ghost-themed) to reach the costume section, which seems to mostly consist of princess dresses for little girls, skimpy dresses for women, a few superhero costumes for little boys, and a couple of military outfits for men. "Ugh," says Lizzie, holding up a semi-transparent sexy fairy costume. "I don't think even Lydia would wear this."

Darcy has already walked to the other end of the aisle, which seems to be dominated by witch hats. "I cannot imagine how anyone could feel comfortable even looking at such a costume, let alone wearing it. I think everything we need should be over here, anyway."

Lizzie would tease Darcy about his obvious discomfort if she weren't so uncomfortable herself. She's never been a fan of hypersexualized costumes, but looking at them with Darcy adds a fresh level of awkwardness. She joins Darcy at the end of the aisle and begins browsing the wigs. Somewhere among the Rapunzel braids, tangled witches' hair, and bright blue bobs, there must be—

"Found it!" said Darcy. By the time Lizzie looks at him, the Afro is on his head. "So," Darcy says in an unusually energetic tenor voice, "Lizzie B. What's happ'nin'?"

Lizzie bursts out laughing. When she gets her breath back, she says, "So I'm guessing you're playing Fitz."

"Well, Fitz got to be me. I believe this is what they call payback. Besides, you've played me before, but you've never played Fitz. And I know him better."

"Are you sure you want me playing you again? My previous portrayals of you have hardly been flattering."

Darcy takes off the Afro wig before saying, "I trust you."

Lizzie turns back to the hats. "Um. Thanks."

The two peruse the hats in silence for a while. Then Darcy says, "I noticed that, when you were talking about costumes in the car, you seemed to try to summarize each person's dominant characteristic in their outfit when you knew them well. With people you didn't know well, the costumes conveyed more of a first impression."

"I'm sorry for being blinded by my first impression of you."

"That isn't what I meant."

"I'm still sorry."

"Apology accepted. But my point is that you know Charlotte well. What do you consider her dominant characteristic?"

It's several moments before Lizzie answers. Then she says, "I don't know. Practicality? Intrusiveness?"

"Intrusiveness? I thought you were friends."

"We _are_ friends. _Best_ friends. Which is why she feels at liberty to pry into things that shouldn't be any of her business. Because it's _all_ her business."

"I . . . see?"

"It's okay. Most people don't understand what it's like to have a since-fetuses best friend." Lizzie looks back at the hats. "Ugh, what can I wear to be Charlotte? I honestly think she's more complicated than my family. Or maybe I just tried to get to know her better? I mean, until yesterday I thought _you_ seemed one-dimensional, and that turned out to be really wrong. But I can't have overlooked the complexities of my family, can I? I mean, I've lived with them my whole life! Well, except Lydia, obviously; I've lived with her for _her_ whole life, since she's younger. You know what I mean."

"I do know. And I have no intention to insult your insight. But I have recently learned the hard way that one does not always know one's family, no matter how long one has lived with them."

This time it's Lizzie's turn to flinch. "Right. Sorry."

"No need to apologize."

"If you say so." Lizzie straightens from a squatting position. She's been looking at the bottom shelf of hats. "Well, I don't think we're going to find a Charlotte costume here. Charlotte's taste is more . . . normal. This stuff is too Halloweeny. Too out there."

"What would you like to do?"

"Well, if you don't mind, it would be nice if you could buy the wig. And then maybe we could go to a clothing store? We could get a hat like that purple one Charlotte has, or maybe a blazer? Secondhand, of course. There's got to be a Goodwill or a Ragstock around here somewhere."

Darcy purses his lips. "I don't think I have ever visited either establishment."

"Do my plebian habits horrify you?"

"On the contrary, they reflect your resourceful nature. It's one thing to cultivate a polished aesthetic when every resource is at your disposal. It's quite another to find ways to do so on a budget." By this time, they have reached the counter, so Darcy pays for the wig and they head back to the car.

"Thanks," Lizzie says. "For the wig. And for what you said."

They get into the car, but Darcy takes out his phone instead of starting the engine. After a minute of silent tapping, Lizzie is tempted to accuse him of fake-texting like he used to do to avoid talking to her, but then Darcy slides his phone back into his pocket and says, "There's a Goodwill eight blocks from here."

As Darcy pulls out of their parking spot and makes a U-turn, Lizzie remembers something from the morning. "Are you sure you want to keep driving me around and make a video this afternoon and everything? How much sleep did you get, anyway?"

"None. There's a reason I ordered a large earl grey when we went to that cafe. But I'm not as much a stranger to all-nighters as you seem to think."

"Right. I need to stop assuming." Lizzie glances at Darcy. "But I'm surprised. At Netherfield, you always seemed to go to bed early."

"I prefer an early bedtime. But I am a CEO, and I was a top student at Harvard before founding Pemberley Digital. Both occupations require late nights on at least a semi-regular basis. Besides, I have been more or less raising Georgiana since I was sixteen. That task, especially in the past year, has often required all-nighters."

Lizzie nods. "I can't imagine trying to juggle college and raising a teenager. I mean, not that I ever really trusted Mom and Dad to raise Lydia, but at least they were _there_. And I could always count on Jane to help me corral Lydia and give her advice."

Darcy chuckles. This time it sounds a little bit less like choking—or perhaps Lizzie is simply more prepared for the sound. "Handling Lydia does seem like a two-person job."

"Hey, watch it. That's my baby sister you're talking about. She may be a handful, but I love her."

"I believe I've often said the same thing about Gigi."

"Who?"

"Gigi. Georgiana. My sister."

"I wouldn't have expected you to be the sort of person to use nicknames."

"I'm full of surprises, apparently. I suppose you'll be even more surprised to learn that I was the one who made up the nickname."

"Uh, yes, I—am."

"Even I was once four years old. Specifically, I was four years old when Gigi was born. 'Georgiana' is a mouthful for a preschooler."

"Oh, please. I bet you were reading Tolkien by then."

Darcy shoots Lizzie a glance. "How did you know I like Tolkien?"

Lizzie shrugs. "Just a hunch."

"Well, no, Tolkien came later. I read quite late, actually—I was functionally illiterate until the age of seven. Aunt Catherine was quite . . . concerned." Darcy parks the car; they have arrived at Goodwill. "Her concern was misplaced," he continues as they exit the car and walk into the store. "It's hardly as though my childhood was devoid of literature. My mother read to me daily. She was . . . indulgent."

Lizzie hears something in Darcy's voice and turns to face him. "Are you all right?"

Darcy clears his throat, straightens his tie, and squares his shoulders. "Yes. Of course. I apologize."

Lizzie gives him a small smile. "You don't have to apologize. And you don't have to be okay all the time."

Darcy returns the smile wryly. "You told me as much last night. I appreciate your support, but you deserve better than to be confronted with two of my breakdowns in 24 hours. Let's find a Charlotte costume, shall we?"

"Charlotte costume. Right." Lizzie locates the women's section and starts sorting through the various tops and sweaters while Darcy stands awkwardly between two racks. Lizzie finds the occasional blazer, but the first several are either extra-large or bizarrely colorful, if not both. Finally, Lizzie spots a black blazer in size small. The shoulder pads look a little extreme, but she's impatient to get back to Collins and Collins and make the video. She pulls the blazer over her shirt and turns to Darcy. "Do you think this works?"

"Your beauty is not dependent on your clothing. You look gorgeous, as always."

Lizzie blushes and frowns. "That wasn't the question."

Darcy clears his throat again. "Of course. Um, yes, the blazer seems . . . suitable."

"Okay, let's see if I can be Charlotte." Lizzie takes a deep breath and stares intently at a spot on the wall. Then, in a steadier and slightly more nasal voice than usual, she says, "Come _on_ , Lizzie, we can't just talk about Bing and Jane _again_. They're _over_. Besides, I hear you've got something interesting to tell us about someone _else_."

Darcy laughs his choking laugh. "That was _good_."

Lizzie strips off the blazer. "Thanks." She hands it to Darcy. "Now let's get out of here."

Darcy accepts the blazer and follows Lizzie. "Does your haste have anything to do with my alleged disgust with such plebian establishments?"

Lizzie laughs. "No. I'm hurrying because _I_ really want to make this video and _you_ are probably going to crash sometime this afternoon."

Darcy pays for the blazer before responding. "Don't underestimate my stamina."

Lizzie takes the blazer from Darcy. "I'm not estimating at all. I don't have to. I know you get crabby and antisocial when you're tired; I've seen it with my own eyes. Remember the Gibson wedding?"

"I apologize for my behavior. I realize that I was unforgivably rude," Darcy says as they get into the car.

"You've already apologized, and I've already accepted your apology. That's not why I brought it up. The point is that you get crabby and antisocial when you're tired. That's okay. It happens. I just don't want it to happen today, on camera."

Darcy stops at a red light and smiles at Lizzie. "You are a better person than you believe yourself to be."

"Yeah, right," Lizzie says, but she smiles.


	5. The Video

**Disclaimer: Hank Green and Bernie Su own this adaptation of Jane Austen's classic.**

 **A/N: I use some unorthodox italics in this chapter to try to make it clear when Lizzie and Darcy are reenacting something and when they're just talking. Please roll with it.**

Lizzie turns the camera on and sits on the left stool. "Here on these videos, I've shared my opinion. A lot. Ad nauseum! Oftentimes I've shared my opinion about other people, frequently without their knowledge or consent and sometimes without knowing them well enough to be qualified to give an opinion. I thought I'd learned my lesson at Netherfield, where I found out that my initial ideas about both Bing and Caroline were—less than accurate. But it turns out that I still have a long way to go, because recently, I found out that I was really, really wrong about one of the people I was completely, totally, utterly sure I had pegged. I'm Lizzie Bennet—"

"And I'm William Darcy." He's sitting on the right stool, next to Lizzie, and she knows her viewers are going to go mad—during the intro because they don't know who that guy is and during the rest of the video because they're finally getting to see Darcy.

But right now it's time to make the video, not to think about its effects. ". . . And we've had an interesting 24 hours."

Lizzie pauses for a couple of beats so that later she can make a clean cut between the intro and the body of the video. Then she says, "Right after making that last video, I called Darcy and told him to come to Charlotte's office here at Collins and Collins."

"It sounded as though you were distressed in some way, so I rushed here."

Lizzie laughs. "'Rushed' is an understatement. You came in with your tie off-center, and you could barely catch your breath."

"I needed to know what was wrong."

"Well, I definitely didn't keep you in suspense for long." Lizzie reaches for the costumes she laid out ahead of time. "Ready?"

"Ready."

Lizzie hands Darcy the newsie cap and bow tie before shrugging on the blue plaid shirt herself. When they're both in costume, she yells, " _How could you do that to my sister?"_

" _I—what?"_ Darcy glances at the script and says his line hesitantly. Lizzie, of course, is off-book.

" _You broke up Bing and Jane! You took my caring, sensitive, wonderful sister's heart and tore it to shreds when the decision wasn't even yours to make! And_ why _? Because you thought she was in it for the_ money _? The money. Jane. You looked at sweet, amazing, perfect Jane and you decided she was in it for the money, and so you turned Bing against her without even giving Jane a chance to explain herself."_

" _She gave me no reason to think her true feelings extended beyond her kindness."_ This time Darcy's voice is more brusque and less hesitant.

" _No reason? No reason?"_ Lizzie lets herself get loud to the point of hysterics. " _Are you kidding me? I mean, sure, she's nice to everyone, that's who she is, she's Jane—but would it have killed you to give her the benefit of the doubt and let things run their course?"_

" _It nearly did, last time."_

" _What?"_

" _Giving someone the benefit of the doubt . . . suffice it to say it wouldn't have been the first time someone close to me had been taken advantage of for the sake of monetary gain."_

" _I think it's a wonder that anyone's ever gotten close to you without such an incentive, given how unpleasant you are."_ Lizzie flinches inwardly at her own rudeness but stays in character, projecting as much self-righteousness and disgust as she can. It's already an effort; she's become a stranger to her day-ago self.

" _Lizzie. This isn't a joke, and it's not paranoia."_ Darcy raises his eyebrows at Lizzie, and she nods. They both take off their costumes and then Darcy stares straight at the camera and speaks again, this time without a script. "We're not going to tell you about what happened next, because it concerns people who deserve to have their privacy respected. Suffice it to say that I told Lizzie about a recent event in which someone very dear to me was exploited. I became quite emotional while I talked about this, and, when Lizzie realized the depth of my feelings on the matter, she began treating me much more kindly."

"I don't know if 'kind' is the right word," Lizzie cuts in. "Mostly I was just in shock to realize you had emotions."

"You got me tea."

"I didn't know what to say. Tea is easier than words."

"Says the woman with a 59-episode video blog."

Lizzie looks back at the camera. It's harder than it should be to pull her eyes from Darcy. "Yes, dear viewers, Darcy now knows about the videos. But let's not get ahead of ourselves. Darcy and I had a pretty long conversation, most of which you're not going to get to hear. But one important part was that Darcy explained why he was so worried about Jane's relationship with Bing and made me see where his interference was coming from. At the same time, he admitted that the end result of his interference was breaking Jane's heart, and that he understands why I would be angry about the heartbreak of someone close to me." She glances at Darcy. "Do you think that's an accurate summary?"

"You have been more than fair."

Lizzie raises her eyebrows and then sighs. "Making up for lost time." Then she smiles. "So? Are you ready to show our lovely viewers the _other_ exciting part of yesterday's conversation?"

Darcy grabs the bow tie and the newsie cap again. "Ready as I'll ever be."

Lizzie pulls the blue flannel shirt over her regular outfit once more and waits for Darcy to deliver his line.

" _I had no idea how you felt about me."_

" _Thank goodness I'm so good at acting, right?"_

" _Well—had I known your objections to me, I may have attempted to improve my behavior, and I certainly would not have considered doing the thing I've been trying to work up the courage to do since I got here."_

" _Oh? And what is that?"_

Darcy pauses for a moment, as he did yesterday, and then says, " _Confessing my love for you_."

Lizzie looks at the camera. "I'm not going to reenact my reaction to that news because that would be physically painful. At this point, we were sitting against a wall, and I hit my head on the wall in shock. I developed quite the bump, actually." Lizzie reaches a hand up to the back of her head and fingers the area gently.

"Oh, no! Should I fetch you some ice? I should have thought of that last night—I'm sorry, I was just so concerned that you might have a concussion that the swelling must have slipped my mind—" Darcy starts to stand.

Lizzie catches Darcy's sleeve, as she did on multiple instances last night, and pulls him back into his seat. "I'm _fine_. It's a bump. It happens." She looks back at the camera and says, "Right. So after I banged my head and Darcy finished overreacting—"

"I was not overreacting. I was merely concerned for your welfare."

"As I was saying, after all of that, I said, ' _Wait. As long as we're confessing things, there's something I should tell you."_

Darcy raises one eyebrow, just as he did yesterday. Lizzie put it in the script as a stage direction. " _Oh?"_

" _I—I have a video blog. I have since the spring. I, um, I've talked about you on there a lot. And, um, I haven't been kind. Actually, uh, I'm pretty sure you could sue me for libel. Several times over. I mean, obviously I'd rather you didn't, but . . . yeah. I can delete the videos if you want me to, but I have hundreds of thousands of viewers and I think they'd be mad and the videos are already, like, out there, you know? I'm really sorry."_

" _How can I find these videos?"_

" _Oh, God, please don't."_

" _If you wish me to respect your privacy—"_

" _No, that's not what I meant. I posted them on the Internet. I've already signed away my privacy. I just—I'm ashamed of how hard I was on you, and I don't want to hurt you more than I already have tonight."_

" _I assure you that I will be grateful for any and all insight into your mind that the videos can provide."_

" _You—wow. You really weren't kidding about loving me, were you?"_

Darcy straightens. Lizzie wrote that in the script, too. " _I do not joke about such things."_

" _I am coming to realize as much. I'm really sorry about tonight. I—I thought I was so clever and rational and unbiased and perceptive, but apparently I've been wrong about a lot of things for a long time."_

" _I have likewise taken pride in my intelligence and fairness, and I have made at least as many mistakes."_

Lizzie turns back to the camera and takes off the blue plaid shirt as she says, "So there you have it, lovely viewers. Lizzie Bennet and William Darcy, two of the most stubborn and arrogant people you will ever meet, admitting that they were wrong. And that's as much as you get to see from the conversation that led to Darcy and me getting along. Now before we show you our friends' reactions—because, let me tell you, they had a lot to say about this—we're going to tell you a hypothetical story." Lizzie picks up a thick volume of Tolstoy that she'd brought with her for her visit to Charlotte, along with the fake glasses from the costume bag, and turns to Darcy, who has now taken off the bow tie and newsie cap. "Are you sure you don't want to do this yourself?"

Darcy nods. "You did it last time. It's only fair."

Lizzie shrugs, puts on the fake glasses, and opens the book. In her exaggerated kindergarten teacher voice, she coos, "Hello, boys and girls. I'm going to tell you a story. Once upon a time, there were two little boys who grew up together. One was called Darvid, and the other was called Batman. Batman's family didn't have as much money as Darvid's—"

Lizzie breaks character. "That really doesn't track with the Batman story at all, does it? The whole point is that he's rich . . ."

Then she glances down at the book and resumes her story. "But anyway. Batman's family didn't have as much money as Darvid's, so Darvid's parents paid for Batman to come do lots of fun things with Darvid and his family. Darvid's parents even saved up money so that Batman could go study at a far-off cave when he got older. Darvid's parents died before Batman got old enough to study at the cave, so when Batman got accepted to the cave, Darvid controlled the money. Batman asked Darvid if he could let Batman control the money and pay the cave, and Darvid agreed. In less than a year, Batman ran out of money, even though there had been enough to pay for four years of studying at the cave. So Batman came and asked Darvid for more money. When Darvid said no, Batman started telling everybody that he'd been denied what was rightfully his." Lizzie closes the book and pulls of the glasses. "The end."

"And good riddance," says Darcy, glaring at the book as Lizzie sets it on the desk behind her.

"Yeah. Are you ready for the next part?"

"I'm still not sure I ought to play you."

"Please. I've used costume theater to mock you too many times to count. I'll deserve any exaggeration you can possibly come up with." She hands him the blue flannel shirt.

Darcy eyes the shirt. "I'm not sure if this will fit."

"Undo the buttons at the cuffs. If that doesn't work, just hold the shirt up in front of you or something. That's what Caroline did with Bing's costume when she didn't want to mess up her hair." Lizzie turns to the camera. "As I said earlier, our loyal besties had some interesting reactions to the news of our conversation. We're going to show you the awkward interrogations both of us faced last night, starting with Charlotte's interrogation of me. But I'm going to be playing Charlotte and Darcy's going to be playing me. Why?" Lizzie draws out the word, bringing her voice from its usual low speaking tone to a stratospheric pitch. "Because Darcy knows me a lot better than he knows my bestie, and I've known Charlotte since we were fetuses."

Darcy has given up on actually putting on Lizzie's shirt and has instead tied the sleeves around his neck so that the shirt's torso covers his chest like a bib. He picks up the script as Lizzie pulls on the recently purchased blazer, and then they launch into the scene.

" _So?"_ Lizzie says in a slightly nasal voice. " _Are you going to tell me why you skipped dinner with Mrs. de Burgh?"_

" _I, uh, had to talk to Darcy,"_ Darcy says in a ridiculous, quivering falsetto.

Lizzie breaks character and stares at Darcy. "Is that really how I sound?"

Darcy clears his throat and responds in his usual baritone. "No. No. I just—don't know how to properly imitate your voice."

"Can you try, like, higher than your normal voice, but not falsetto?"

" _I, uh, had to talk to Darcy,"_ Darcy says again, this time sounding more like a tenor and less like a man imitating a woman.

"Thanks. Yeah. That's a lot better." Lizzie raises a finger like a cartoon character who's just had an idea and shouts, "Back to the script!" She adjusts how she's sitting and continues as Charlotte. " _You. Had to talk to Darcy."_

" _You heard me."_

" _Why would you want to talk to him? You hate him."_

" _Actually, I don't hate him anymore."_

" _What?!"_

" _I don't hate him anymore. We had a good talk. I did some screaming and he explained some things and we're better now."_

" _That's it? One conversation and everything's magically better?"_

" _I mean, it's still not great, but it's better. The way things were, the only way to go was up, you know?"_

" _This is not the Lizzie Bennet I know. You hate changing your mind! Plus, hating Darcy was becoming part of your essence."_

" _Yeah, well, I was wrong about him, okay? There. I said it. I was wrong. Happy?"_

" _Not until I get the details."_

" _Can we do that tomorrow?"_ For all that the voice is off, Darcy's impression of Lizzie's whine is disturbingly accurate.

" _Fine. But you_ are _telling me."_ Lizzie takes off the blazer. "As promised, I gave Charlotte the details today at breakfast. There was a lot of cereal on the table by the time I finished the story. She kept dropping her spoon."

"Fitz was also quite surprised when he found out about the conversation, but for different reasons." Darcy grabs the Afro wig and a script. "Ready?"

Lizzie puts on the bow tie and newsie hat and picks up her copy of the script. For once, she's not off-book. "Yep."

Darcy finishes adjusting the wig, clears his throat, and delivers his line in a voice slightly higher and much more energetic than his own. " _Hey, man, are you gonna tell me why you didn't come to dinner tonight or what? Your aunt was asking about you."_ It's stunning how different Darcy can sound from his usual self.

" _I'm—sorry for the inconvenience."_ Lizzie makes her voice low, as she usually does when portraying Darcy, Bing, or her father, but she does her best to sound merely awkward and not robotic.

" _You know I wasn't asking for an apology. I'm asking where you were, man! What were you up to?"_

" _Lizzie called."_

" _I know. I was there for that. But what_ happened _, man? Did you_ tell _her anything?"_

" _If you're referring to the possibility of me making a love confession, yes, I did. But I was not the only one making confessions."_

" _What, does she love you, too? 'Cause I didn't think she was your biggest fan."_

" _You knew of her dislike for me?"_

" _I might've talked to her about you a couple of times. She didn't like you, and she was pretty clear about that, but I tried to change her mind. Told her about how you really take care of the people you care about. Like with Bing."_

Lizzie pauses. It's one of the few stage directions Darcy put in the script. Then she says, " _Ah."_

" _That's it? 'Ah?' Not, 'Thanks, Fitz, I appreciate your help in winning over the woman I love'?"_

" _I trust that you meant well, but your mention of Bing did not help Lizzie's opinion of me. You see, the woman I warned Bing about was Lizzie's sister Jane."_

" _Wait. Jane? The one I helped Lizzie make a care package for?"_

" _You helped Lizzie make a care package?"_

" _I'm a care package_ executive _! But you're telling me that you took Bing away from_ Lizzie's sister _?"_

" _Yes. It has since become apparent that I may have misjudged her."_

" _I might have done some misjudging myself. I'm sorry for telling her about you and Bing."_

" _No need to apologize. The fault is mine, for meddling in a situation I did not fully understand."_

" _So if Lizzie wasn't confessing love, then what did she confess?"_

" _That she hated me, and that she has a video blog."_

" _She hates you? Aw, man, I'm sorry."_

" _It seems that she no longer hates me. I told her about the recent events that made me wary of Jane's relationship with Bing, and I . . . displayed rather more emotion than usual. Lizzie seemed surprised by the emotional display—it surprised me as well—and afterward she was more receptive to what I had to say. It may have helped that I apologized and tried to see from her viewpoint as well. In the end, she said she had come to respect me."_

" _Whoa. Sounds like a tough night. I bet you're ready to hit the sack."_

" _Hardly. I intend to watch all of Lizzie's vlogs as soon as possible."_

" _Are you sure you wanna do that, man?"_

" _Yes. It is clear that I would benefit from additional insight into Lizzie's mind. I had not suspected her dislike of me until today. I must become better informed."_

" _It's just that I heard she might have said some harsh things about you on her vlog."_

Lizzie gives Darcy a long look. It's another stage direction. Finally, she says, " _How much have you known about Lizzie without telling me? And how did you know about the vlog?"_

" _I've been on Lizzie's vlog a couple times. That's when I failed you in the middle of being a care package executive. Lizzie made me promise not to watch the videos or tell you about them. But I think you're up to speed now, as far as I know."_

" _In that case, if you don't mind, I have some videos to watch."_

" _You sure, man? It's getting late."_

" _Fitz. Do you think I could sleep tonight without watching them?"_

" _Touche, man. Touche."_

As both she and Darcy remove their costumes, Lizzie says, "As you can see, we've had a _very_ interesting 24 hours. You know, I think that's the most costumes I've ever used in one video. Although not the most costumes that have ever _appeared_ in one video. I'm pretty sure _that_ honor goes to Lydia, for the video in which she hatched a disturbingly successful scheme to get rid of Rick—excuse me, _Mr._ Collins."

"That was an . . . interesting video," says Darcy.

"Yeah . . . But we're not here to reminisce about old videos. It's still weird that you've seen them, by the way. I'm really sorry, again."

"You said very little that I did not deserve, and this video is satisfactory atonement for the rest. Shall we close it out?"

"It's definitely time. I don't think I've ever made a video this long. That was exhausting, even for me. How do you feel?"

"I feel—good."

Lizzie smiles. "Me too. That felt good." She turns off the camera.


	6. Sisters

**Disclaimer: I would not be so Austentatious (get it?) as to believe these characters or settings are my own. (Nor is the pun. It comes from a book about crotcheting.)**

Lizzie spends the next two days editing the video she shot with Darcy. She's never had this much footage for one video before—nearly half an hour of continuous filming—and it's hard to know what to cut. The bits of chatter in between each scene of costume theater aren't strictly necessary, but they feel important somehow. They're video evidence that she and Darcy can actually talk to each other like normal people. The frequent question, "Ready?," presents a similar problem. It doesn't add content, exactly, but it shows that she and Darcy have started taking each other's emotional states into account and are actually communicating.

In the end, Lizzie mostly cuts the costume changes and pauses and leaves everything else in. There was definitely dead time, since the whole episode was filmed in one take. The final video clocks in at 17 minutes, more than twice as long as Lizzie's second-longest vlog episode, but that's okay. This is one of the biggest things that's happened since Lizzie started vlogging. (Or at least, it feels that way. Somehow official things like getting her master's degree and completing internships seem to fade into the background whenever Darcy or Bing shows up.) This is allowed to take up time. Besides, the viewers have been dying to see Darcy for months; it's not like they're going to get bored.

Charlotte's curious about why Lizzie insists on editing this video herself. Lizzie reminds Charlotte of how many weekends she's worked recently and points out that it's not like Charlotte has time to edit a video, especially not one this long. It's clear that Charlotte's more eager to see the footage than to actually edit it, anyway. Charlotte still can't make sense of why Lizzie and Darcy disappeared together for a day and have since been saying good morning and goodbye to one another but not really socializing. Lizzie honestly doesn't quite understand, either, but she tells herself that the day they made the video was atonement for both of them, and their distant cordiality is the new normal, the inevitable result of an acquaintanceship with one-sided attraction. She ignores everything inside herself that gives a message to the contrary.

Charlotte and Mr. Collins have a brainstorming session with Mrs. de Burgh from eight to eleven on the day Lizzie's video with Darcy goes live, so Lizzie knows Charlotte won't see the video until her lunch break. Even then, she's not likely to have a huge reaction. Despite how mysterious Lizzie's been acting, Charlotte already knows most of what's in the video.

Other people, however, are not so caught up on the events of Lizzie's life. Lizzie has a feeling that one of her sisters, or Caroline, or somebody, is going to see the video and contact her shortly thereafter. After posting the final version of the video on YouTube at 9:00 sharp, Lizzie sets up her camera, sits on one of the stools she uses for filming, and takes out her phone. At 9:15, she turns on the camera and says, "Wait for it . . . wait for it . . ."

The wait is actually several minutes, but she leaves the camera rolling. She knows she can cut most of the waiting and splice together a few shots of herself staring into space to convey the amount of time it took without actually boring her viewers. Just when Lizzie thinks that maybe she should turn the camera off and wait another day or two to make the next video, her phone rings. The screen says Lydia Bennet.

Lizzie picks up, puts her phone on speaker mode, and says, "Hey, Lydia!"

"OMG, sis!" Lydia squeals. "Who is that guy and what has he done with Darceface?"

Lizzie laughs. "Um, I think he _is_ Darcy. There's just . . . more to him than we saw at first."

"But he's got some kind of nerdy crush on you? Ew!"

"Lydia, be nice," says Jane's voice over the phone.

"Wait, Jane? Did you have to go home? Is something wrong?" Lizzie asks frantically.

"Chill _out_ , sis," says Lydia. "I took a couple days off of school to visit Jane in L.A. NBD. Everything's great."

"Lydia, you can't just _ditch school_ —" Lizzie starts.

"Mom's already called, and Lydia has agreed to go home _very soon_ ," says Jane, "so we don't need to talk about that. I just want to say that I'm so happy that you and Darcy finally got to know each other better! I was sure there was more to him than just the way he seemed at first."

"Of course you were sure," says Lizzie. "You always believe the best about everyone. Speaking of which, I think we might need to reevaluate our opinion of George Wickham."

"Are you sure?" asks Jane. "It could all just be a big misunderstanding.

Lizzie sighs. "There's something else about George that I didn't put in the video. Without going into too much detail—suffice it to say that he was the person who did the exploiting in Darcy's story. And the way Darcy acted when he was telling me about it . . . he's totally sure, and there's no way he was lying."

"How was he acting, anyway?" Lydia asks. "You kept mentioning that he got 'emotional,' but it's so weird to think of Darceface having feelings."

"Lydia . . ." Jane's tone is tense, almost strict.

"It _was_ weird," Lizzie concedes. "Darcy cried. A lot. And not like fake crying. Like snot-and-tears-and-kind-of-choking crying."

"Wow. Something awful must have happened, to provoke that kind of a reaction in someone so stoic," says Jane.

"Something awful _did_ happen," Lizzie agrees, "but the story isn't mine to tell."

"Ugh, Lizzie, even your phone calls are depressing," Lydia groans.

Lizzie rolls her eyes. "Fine. New topic. Jane, has Bing gotten in touch with you lately? I made Darcy promise to tell him that he'd been wrong about you."

"Bing called yesterday," says Jane, and now it's her happy voice. "I've been a little busy with work and Lydia, but I told him that we could meet up next week."

"That's great!" says Lizzie.

"You two are totes adorbs," Lydia agrees. "You should totes get back together. But first Bing had better apologize for ditching you without an explanation."

"I think I've _gotten_ the explanation," Lizzie breaks in, "and it wasn't Bing's fault. Darcy has seen people he cares about get exploited, and he thought it might have been happening again, so he pulled Bing away from you without giving you a chance to explain yourself. It's Darcy's fault, and he's willing to take the blame. He's apologized to me several times, and I'm sure he'd apologize to you, too, Jane, if you want."

"I don't need that." Lizzie can't see Jane over the phone, but she's sure Jane is wearing her tight, anxious smile. "Darcy apologized publically on the Internet. That's enough. Besides, part of the blame lies with Bing. No matter what Darcy said, Bing still chose to listen to him and leave without talking to me."

"Wow. Jane, blaming someone? Do mine ears deceive me?" says Lizzie.

"Jane's gotten totes kickass since she moved to L.A., sis."

"I can tell. Hey, Jane, there's something you should know before you see Bing next week. I'm not sure if Darcy told Bing about this or not, but just in case he did . . . Darcy thinks he saw you kissing someone other than Bing at Bing's birthday party." The last part comes out in a rush.

"What?" Lydia shrieks. "Why are you listening to Darceface? Jane would never do that. You know Jane better than to think—"

"I can't believe he saw that." Jane's voice is low.

"What?" Lydia's tone just keeps getting shriller and shriller.

"One of Bing's childhood friends got really drunk and started hitting on me at the party. It seemed like Caroline kept trying to push us together, but she probably was just trying to get me to keep him from disturbing the other guests. Anyway, I tried to keep my distance, and I kept telling him that I was with Bing, but he just kept drinking and I couldn't leave because then he'd start bothering other girls. Finally he just kissed me. It was gross. He tasted so strongly of alcohol and his hands were everywhere and—I just can't believe Darcy saw that."

Lizzie sighs, unsure of what kind of support Jane needs right now. She just says, "Darcy and I have talked about it, and we both suspect that Caroline planned for that to happen. He no longer blames you."

"Lizzie, you can't just accuse Caroline without proof."

"Well, Darcy agrees with me, and he's known Caroline for a lot longer than we have. Besides, has Caroline answered _any_ of your texts since she left for L.A.?"

"Seriously, sis, I still don't understand why you're listening to Darceface."

"Caroline _has_ answered some of my texts. First she said she was busy, and then we arranged to meet up."

" _You met up with Caroline?_ "

Jane sighs. "No, she mixed up the dates and never showed."

"Okay, now my liar-meter is definitely pinging."

"Yeah, Caroline is totes sketch."

"So both of you want me to get back together with Bing while also thinking the worst of his sister? I can't do that. And I can't suspect Caroline of something that awful without any proof. It was just an unfortunate situation, and I'm glad Darcy knows that I didn't mean for it to happen. Speaking of Darcy, though, Lizzie, what's been going on with you two? I mean, since you made the video."

"Nothing much. We say good morning and goodbye and that's about it." Lizzie tries to ignore the sinking feeling she gets from saying that out loud.

"Lizzie." Jane's tone is at once gentle and scolding. "There's more than civility in that video."

"Ew, you think Lizzie should date Darceface? He's such a nerd. Gross. Wait, what am I talking about? Lizzie, you're totes nerdy too! OMG, you're perfect for each other!"

Lizzie laughs nervously. "Uh, no, we're not . . . I mean, I just stopped hating him a couple days ago; it's not like we're . . ."

"Lizzie, you're my sister and I love you, but you've never been the quickest to change your mind," says Jane. "You were willing to change your opinion of Darcy and admit that you were wrong publically, on the Internet. It takes someone special to inspire that kind of humility in you. And you've been obsessed with him for months. I know that didn't feel like attraction at the time, but you know what they say about love and hate."

"That they're complete opposites?"

"That they're two sides of the same coin."

"That's ridiculous. I'd like to go on the record right now and say that I am not in love with William Darcy."

Just then, the door opens to Charlotte's office. Lizzie turns around and sees Darcy, one hand still on the doorknob. "Lizzie!" he says. "Are you . . . talking to someone? I thought I heard my name."

Lizzie uses the hand that isn't holding her phone to adjust her shirt. She can feel the heat rising in her cheeks. "I'm, uh, on the phone. With my sisters. It's on speaker."

"Oh. I'll, uh, be going then." Darcy starts to close the door.

"No!" says Lizzie too quickly. "I mean, I'm, uh, just wrapping up."

"HI, DARCEFACE!" Lydia screams through the phone.

Darcy raises a hand to his face as he takes a seat on the stool beside Lizzie. "Um . . . hello."

"Uh, don't worry, that's just Lydia's nickname for you," Lizzie explains.

"I see. You said you were talking to your sisters? Plural?"

"Yeah. Lydia apparently decided to take a few days off of school to visit Jane in L.A., so they're both on the phone together."

"Oh. I see. In that case . . . Jane?"

"Hi, Darcy, it's good to hear from you."

"Oh. Um. Thank you. You, too. That is, it's good to hear from you. I'd—like to apologize. I should not have judged you as hastily or as harshly as I did. I was wrong about you, and I acted on my erroneous ideas. Having seen Lizzie's videos, I now realize both how badly I misjudged you and the pain that my mistakes have caused you. I am deeply sorry on both counts. I wish you all the best with Bing."

"Thank you, Darcy," says Jane. "You didn't need to apologize. You already admitted you were wrong on Lizzie's video."

"I still owed you a direct apology. I'm glad I came while Lizzie was talking to you."

"Me, too," Jane replies.

"Me, three!" Lydia adds. "For a nerd, you're kind of okay, Darceface."

"That's Lydia's version of a compliment," Lizzie translates. "Hey, Jane, Lydia, it was nice talking to you. Lydia, go back to school. Soon."

"Bye, sis," says Lydia. "I guess this conversation wasn't as depressing as usual, even though you're totes lame for wanting me to go home."

"Gee, thanks, Lydia. But Jane, seriously, I hope everything goes well with Bing."

"Thanks, Lizzie," says Jane. "It was lovely to talk to you. Think about what I said."

"Fine," says Lizzie. "Bye." She clicks the End Call button.

There's an awkward silence for several moments, and then Lizzie says, "Did you want something from me? Charlotte's at a brainstorming session with your aunt, so I can't help you if you're looking for her."

"No, I'm, uh, not looking for Charlotte. I was looking for you, actually."

"Okay . . . What did you want from me?"

"I—ahem—I wanted to say goodbye."

"'Goodbye.' As in, you're leaving?"

"Yes. Fitz and I have submitted our corporate progress report, and we have work waiting for us in San Fransisco."

"Oh. Um. Well, I'm sure you'll be glad to no longer be living out of a suitcase."

Darcy gives a small smile. "I will miss you, Lizzie."

Lizzie blushes. "I, um—I might miss you, too, Darcy."

Darcy stands and walks the two paces necessary to reach the door. "Goodbye. And thank you."

Lizzie watches Darcy open the door and tries to tamp down the roiling feeling that reaches all the way up to her throat. "Same to you." When Darcy is gone, Lizzie turns off the camera. She's not sure what just happened, but maybe rewatching the footage will help her make sense of it. Either way, she definitely has enough material for her next video.


	7. Caroline

**Disclaimer: The original characters belong to Jane Austen, and these iterations of them are the creation of Hank Green and Bernie Su.**

Editing the video doesn't give Lizzie as much clarity as she'd hoped. Jane's words keep coming back to her. There _is_ more than civility in the video—this one, as well as the last. Civility wouldn't have required "I might miss you too." And what was with all the stuttering? She sounded perfectly competent as long as she was just talking to her sisters, and then as soon as Darcy showed up it was like she'd forgotten how to speak. But "more than civility" doesn't have to mean romance. The point has been settled since middle school: you can _like_ a guy without _like_ -liking him.

You can. Hypothetically. In general. Something in Lizzie wonders whether that argument is relevant to whatever is happening between her and Darcy.

The day after Lizzie posts the video, there's another dinner at de Burgh's, and what happens there is so unforeseen that it almost takes Lizzie's mind off of Darcy. The next morning, Lizzie sets up her camera in Charlotte's office to talk about it. After all, that's how she works through every twist and turn in her life these days.

"Doesn't it seem like, every time there's a dinner at de Burgh's, there's some sort of unexpected surprise?" Lizzie asks the camera once it's turned on. "First she turns out to be Darcy's aunt, and then Darcy himself shows up, and now—I'm Lizzie Bennet, and _Caroline_ was at dinner last night."

Lizzie pauses the habitual beat so as to allow for a clean break for the title sequence, and then she says, "If you're wondering if Caroline said anything about, well, anything, the answer is no. Nothing. Zilch. And while I was getting the usual de Burgh rundown of all the things I should know how to do and don't, Caroline was busy receiving every form of praise imaginable. Apparently she's given hairstyling advice to the Empress of Japan."

Lizzie looks around dramatically and lowers her voice. "You know, I've been trying to keep the more negative stuff off my videos lately. Charlotte was right that being nice to Ricky wouldn't be that bad, and there really was more to Darcy than I realized at first. It's been a good couple weeks for my faith in humanity. But I've had my doubts about Caroline ever since she and Bing just disappeared, and the lack of explanation last night is really not helping. In fact, ever since Darcy told me his story of Bing's birthday party, I've been wondering if—"

Out of the corner of her eye, Lizzie sees the office door open. There's no knock to warn her. She doesn't even get the chance to fully turn her head before Caroline starts speaking. "Lizzie Bennet, how dare you?"

Lizzie blinks and then blinks again. She wishes there were more time to gather her thoughts. Since there's not, she stutters, "Wh—what?"

"It's not enough for your sister to cheat on my brother, now you have to go lie about it on the Internet and say the whole thing was _my_ fault? And don't even get me _started_ on what you're doing to Darcy."

Lizzie leans forward and reaches out to turn the camera off.

"Keep it on," says Caroline. She tucks the skirt of her shimmery green dress neatly underneath her as she sits. "Your audience deserves to know the truth, and _I_ deserve the chance to tell my side of the story."

"I don't owe you anything, Caroline," Lizzie shoots back. "But if you want to talk about this on camera, then fine. Let's talk. Heaven knows we've gone long enough without an honest conversation."

"Are you implying that I was ever _dishonest_ with you, Lizzie? Or are you admitting to lying to me?"

Lizzie forces a grim smile. "I'm just saying it's been a long time since we really talked."

"Oh. Well. After your sister was so _dastardly_ as to cheat on my brother, I expect you can understand why I was less than eager to get in touch with you. And even if _you_ don't understand, I'm sure _they_ will." She gestures toward the camera.

"You know, Caroline, even if Jane _did_ cheat on Bing, I still don't think it would be very fair for both you and your brother to shut both Jane and me out for _months_ without even telling us why."

"Are you admitting that Jane cheated on Bing?"

"No, I'm just saying that under no circumstances would your actions have been fair."

"You just don't understand my brother the way I do. Talking more about the way Jane hurt him—he wouldn't have been able to handle it. I'm his older sister and it is my job to protect him."

Lizzie glances at the camera. "Jeez, it seems like everybody's trying to protect their siblings these days." Then she looks back at Caroline. "Well, guess what, Caroline. In your quest to 'protect your brother'"—air quotes—"you broke Jane's heart. I'm her sister, and I won't stand for that."

"Jane made her bed and she can lie in it. You can't keep her from facing the consequences of her actions."

" _Her_ actions? We're seriously still talking about _her_ actions? What about _your_ actions, Caroline—throwing Jane and that drunk guy together and then luring Darcy into the room just in time to see him kiss her?"

Caroline shifts a sheaf of her shining black hair over her shoulder."I would _never_ do something like that to Jane."

"Jane would never cheat on anyone, and she's a whole lot more trustworthy than you are."

"Are you challenging my honesty, Lizzie?"

"Yes. I am. And Darcy thinks your a liar, too. We've talked about the different things you said to both of us at Netherfield, and they just don't match up."

Caroline's laugh tinkles like glass breaking, musical and jagged and dangerous. "Are you sure you want to talk about Darcy?"

Lizzie glances at the camera, this time in confusion. "Um, yeah. I mean, his opinion is relevant."

"Of course it is, but you've lost all your credibility in this area. Not that you had much to begin with."

"What are you even talking about?"

Caroline rolls her eyes. "Oh, please. Don't pretend you don't know."

"I—don't?"

"It's so obvious what you're doing. Anyone can see it."

"See what?"

"That you're seducing him!"

Lizzie's jaw drops. It takes her a moment to recover enough to splutter, "I—what? No, I— _what_? _He's_ the one who announced he was in love with _me_!"

Caroline smooths her dress over her flat stomach. "So you say. Your video doesn't record the actual conversation, just your reenactment of it."

"But even in the reenactment, Darcy's the one who says it. Are you calling Darcy a liar?"

"I'm just saying that costume theater always shows what _you_ want it to show."

"Darcy wouldn't have agreed to act the scene that way unless it matched up with what he remembered happening."

"Unless he had other reasons for wanting to act it that way."

"Like what?" Lizzie throws up her hands. "Don't even bother answering that. You're still calling him a liar."

"I'm not going to hold him responsible for the things he's said under your influence."

"So you're saying he's easily manipulated."

"Oh, I wouldn't say 'easily.' I'm sure you didn't go easy on him."

"Why would I even seduce him in the first place? You know as well as anyone that I didn't used to like him."

"Pfft. 'Used to,'" Caroline scoffs. "Don't give me that. Like you would ever change your mind about Darcy."

"Let me get this straight. You think I'm seducing him, but you also think I still don't like him? How does that work?"

"It's obvious. You just want to wrap him around your little finger and make it that much more crushing when you finally ruin him."

" _What_?"

Caroline passes a hand through her glossy hair and looks at the camera. "Everyone can see it."

"I think you've mixed up the difference between everyone and just yourself. Because I'm pretty sure you're the only one who sees what you think you're seeing."

"Are you calling me delusional?"

Lizzie makes a face. "Yeah, I guess I am. In no universe does it make sense that I would seduce a guy I don't like just to cause him additional trouble."

"It's at least as probable as the idea that I would end a happy relationship of my brother's by tricking his girlfriend into cheating on him and then arranging for a mutual friend to witness said cheating."

"It's more likely that you concocted an elaborate scheme than that Jane cheated on Bing."

"And it's more likely that you manipulated Darcy than that his judgement so thoroughly failed him that he fell in love with someone like you."

Lizzie narrows her eyes. "What do you mean, someone like me?"

"Oh, please. Your financial troubles, your ghastly mother, your embarrassing younger sister—a romantic connection with you would be disastrous for Darcy. Perhaps his aunt would even pull her investment from his company—you know she can't stand you."

"Well then, I guess it's good that I turned Darcy down. Wouldn't want to create any family feuds, especially not involving de Burgh."

Caroline rolls her eyes. "Turned him down? I've been watching your videos, Lizzie Bennet. If that's not leading a guy on, I don't know what is."

"You know what, Caroline? I don't have to talk to you anymore."

"That's not a denial."

"And this isn't your office. Now leave."

"Fine." Caroline meets Lizzie's eyes directly for the first time in a while. "I look forward to our next encounter."

Caroline stands, smooths her shimmery dress one more time, and makes her exit, closing the door behind her. Lizzie waits, watching the door warily, and listens to Caroline's pumps clack all the way down the hall. Finally, when they're far enough away, Lizzie sighs with relief and turns the camera off. She's so exhausted from the back-and-forth that after that she just sits and stares at the turned-off camera, and that's how Charlotte finds her, twenty minutes later.

"Lizzie?" Charlotte says. "Are you filming?"

"Huh?" Lizzie straightens up and looks at Charlotte. "No. I—was, but now I'm just—uh, yeah."

Charlotte sits down. "Lizzie? Are you okay?"

Lizzie takes a deep breath and says, "Caroline came by."

"Oh." Charlotte nods. "I figured that might happen, but this was pretty quick. What did she want?"

"She accused me of lying about her, given the last video, and also of seducing Darcy."

"She really is shameless, isn't she? What did you say?"

"Well, I said that Jane's more trustworthy than Caroline, so I'm going to believe that Caroline schemed to break up Bing and Jane, rather than believing that Jane cheated on Bing. And then, about the seducing, I mostly just said that Darcy was the one who fell for me, and also that it wouldn't make sense for me to seduce someone I don't like. But then Caroline said I was seducing Darcy so that I could ruin him later, like that even makes sense."

"It sounds like she's getting desperate."

"I don't know where she even gets these ideas."

"Yeah, they are pretty far-fetched. Although . . ."

Lizzie frowns at Charlotte. "What?"

"Obviously you're not _seducing_ Darcy, but flirting wouldn't be far off the mark."

" _What_?"

"Oh, come on! I know you edit your own videos these days; you've seen yourself. If that's not flirting, I don't know what is."

Lizzie shudders. "You sound _way_ too much like Caroline."

"Hey, now. Do _not_ compare me to her."

"Well, one of the last things she said was 'If that's not leading a guy on, I don't know what is.'"

"Well then, I guess we've just found the one thing Caroline is right about."

"I am not _leading him on_!"

"Okay, okay, the wording might be a little strong. If it's any consolation, I know you're not doing it on purpose. You just . . . like him."

"I—you—ugh, you're impossible." Lizzie slumps forward.

Charlotte puts her arm around Lizzie. "Hey, I know this is fast. But Darcy's a good guy, and he likes you, and you two are going to make this work."

"Are you sure? Because he's been gone for three days and I haven't gotten so much as a text message from him."

"Have you tried texting him?"

"Well, no, but . . ."

"Come on, Lizzie, you've got to try. You can't pretend you don't like him."

Lizzie sighs. "William Darcy is—he's a force of nature. You don't just text him."

"Then call him! That's how this whole thing started, isn't it? With you calling him?"

"Yeah, but I was in a blinding rage at the time. The proposition is scarier now that I'm actually calm."

"But you've gotten to know each other since then, too, at least a little bit."

"But . . ."

"I am not going to let you waste your chance with him. Besides, a relationship could do you a lot of good."

Lizzie frowns. "Look at the pot calling the kettle black! You've been single even longer than I have."

Charlotte makes a face back. "Only if you're counting your fling with George Wickham."

"Still! This is the twenty-first century. I don't need a relationship."

"Do you really think you'd talk so much about your singledom if it didn't bother you?"

"Yeah, I would, because my mother never shuts up about it. Remember the 2.5 WPF Club?"

"That's not the only reason it's on your mind. And I've never seen you as obsessed with your lack of a relationship as you were when Darcy and Bing were living at Netherfield."

"Probably because my mother was obsessed with pairing up Jane and Bing."

Charlotte sighs. "Fine. If you're sure that's all this is . . ."

"Okay, that's not _all_ , but I just—I don't—I can't . . ."

"You like him. He likes you. I'm not your mother—I'm not saying you have to marry him. But I'm saying you both deserve to find out whether this will work."

Lizzie shuts her eyes tightly.

"Come on, what's the worst that can happen?"

"Answering that question never ends well."

"Okay, fine, but the probability of it going wrong is pretty low." Charlotte looks at Lizzie's hunched figure and says, "How about this: If you call him, I'll take you out to dinner at that Chinese place we always pass on the way here. If you tell me what you talk about, I'll even spring for some honey walnut shrimp. Deal?"

Lizzie groans. "Fine."

Charlotte stands and begins gathering papers for her next meeting. "What are besties for?"


	8. The Phone Call

**Disclaimer: Still not mine.**

 **A/N: In case I haven't mentioned it before, my LBD writing is deeply indebted to Matril, especially "Hyperillumination through New Media" and "Hypotheticals." Check them out.**

Charlotte heads off to another brainstorming session with Ricky Collins and Catherine de Burgh when she's done talking with Lizzie, and Lizzie's left to sit in Charlotte's office and stew. She knows she has to call Darcy, but it's a daunting proposition. To stall, she spends the next hour and a half editing the video of her and Caroline, but she's gotten too much practice editing her videos in the past few months, and the process doesn't take nearly as long as it used to. By 11:00, Lizzie has a completed video ready to post in two days. She's almost never this prepared.

She considers trying to get some work done on her independent study, but she knows she won't be able to focus on anything that doesn't involve Darcy right now. She still doesn't have the courage to call him, though, so she Googles Pemberley Digital and spends a while reading about Darcy and his company. Then she finds Darcy on Facebook, and then on Twitter, and—what? He started following her eight days ago? Her fans have been commenting on it, too . . . How has she missed this? It's been an eventful week, true, but she's studying _mass communications_ , for goodness' sake. She should keep abreast with events relating to her own social media accounts, at the very least.

Lizzie checks out Darcy's Twitter account. He doesn't tweet much, that's for sure. But there's a tweet with a timestamp of 3:24 a.m. on October 25—the night Darcy watched all her videos. It's only one word: "Illuminating." Below that, there are only about a dozen tweets, several of which seem related to confusion as to why hoards of random people are following and heckling him, Caroline, and ggdarcy (oh God, that's his sister—the fans got her, too).

Lizzie follows Darcy back on Twitter. She wonders briefly if that will be enough to pacify Charlotte, but she knows it won't, and anyway it's not enough to satisfy herself. She's getting so antsy thinking about the prospect of calling Darcy that she's losing her ability to distract herself. She's never found procrastination hard before, but that just goes to show how fully Darcy has turned her world upside down.

It's 11:40 when Lizzie can't take it anymore. She gets out her phone, opens her contacts, scrolls down until she gets to William Darcy, and then finds herself unable to press the Call button. She can't distract herself, but it turns out she can't take action, either. She stares at her phone screen for a couple of minutes and focuses on breathing. Every now and then she taps the screen so that it won't go dark. Finally, at 11:44, she presses Call.

The phone rings several times, and then Lizzie hears, "You have reached William Darcy." For a moment, she thinks Darcy's picked up, since that's what he said last time she called him. But then the voice on the other end of the line continues, "Please leave a message," and she realizes that this is just his voice mail.

After the beep, she says, "Hi, Darcy, this is Lizzie." Every word is separated from the one before it, and each seems to be in a different octave as well. She's lost control of her voice entirely. She makes herself continue. "Call me back. I'd like to—chat." She hangs up and stares at her phone as though she's never seen it before. The arm holding her phone spasms a few times before going still, and then she's left with no idea what to do next. It's not as though going through with the call has made her any _less_ antsy.

Lizzie sits there squirming and shuddering and feeling her face contort for a while, and then she sets down her phone and pulls out a file for her independent study and forces herself to focus on it. She's read the same sentence eight times without understanding it when her phone starts vibrating. The screen says William Darcy.

Lizzie picks up. "Hello?"

"Lizzie, are you all right?"

"Um, yeah, I'm, uh, fine. Thanks for, um, getting back to me so quickly. I'm sure you're—busy. Being a CEO." Prior to last week, Lizzie thought she was good at public speaking. She thought she was eloquent. She thought she was skilled at mass communications. After all, she's given presentations in front of hundreds of people. She's been running a popular video blog for months. It's not like she's a novice. Now, she's stunned at how inelegant she sounds. And all for a guy whose attractiveness she barely thought about until a week ago.

"Oh," Darcy stutters back. "It's no trouble. Uh, was there something you—wanted from me?"

"No. I just—" Lizzie laughs. "Charlotte wanted me to call you. That is, not that I _didn't_ want to call you. But it was—her idea."

"I . . . see. Did Charlotte—want something from me? Did she have a question about the corporate progress report, or something?"

"Oh. No. Um. She just thought that we should . . . talk. You know. Meddling is kind of her thing."

There's a pause, and then Darcy says, "I don't suppose you would know anything about that."

"Huh?"

"Meddling."

It takes Lizzie a minute to realize what Darcy just said, and then she laughs. "Right, yeah. And neither would you, huh?"

There's the half-choking sound of Darcy's laugh on the other end of the line. "Touche." There's a pause. "Why did Charlotte want you to call me?"

Lizzie squeezes her eyes shut. She should have realized this was bound to come up. She should have rehearsed something. She shouldn't have called Darcy until she was absolutely sure she could handle this. She's tempted to hang up, but that wouldn't do any good. Not now. Not when she's already in this deep. "Well, you know how I said I might miss you? Um, well, I do, and Charlotte could see that, and, uh, she thought it would be a good idea to remedy that. Since it's, you know, not the 1800s and we can get in touch with people who are far away, and stuff."

"Oh. Well. I'm glad you called. I've missed you too."

"Yeah? What have you been up to?"

"Meetings, mostly. With the board, with investors, with the department heads—I can't tell you the specifics, and I'm sure it would bore you, anyway. How about you?"

"Well, you know, I've been having more dinners with your aunt. I can't believe you had to live with her. Blech. And as a teenager!"

"The one you should really feel sorry for is my sister. She was stuck there for six years. I was only there for two."

"Ugh, I can't imagine the things that would do to your head."

"Yes, I think it may have played a role in Gigi's, um, choice of a boyfriend. I often wonder if I should have stayed in California for undergrad, to be closer to her. It would have saved me a lot of late nights, if nothing else—the time difference was brutal. But, had I not gone to Harvard, I never would have met Bing."

"Funny you should mention Bing. His sister was at dinner last night."

"Caroline came to Huntsford? Why?"

"I think it was to see me."

"How so?"

"She burst into Charlotte's office this morning while I was filming. She accused me of lying about her on the Internet, given what I said on the phone with my sisters in the last video." What the hell—he's going to see Caroline's accusations in full in the next video anyway. "She also accused me of seducing you."

"I . . . see."

"I couldn't believe it either."

"May I ask why she thought you were seducing me?"

"She seems to think that I still hate you and that I'd like to wind you around my little finger so that I can crush you later." Lizzie sighs. "I suppose she's so used to concocting convoluted plans that she suspects everyone else of doing the same."

"That does make a certain amount of sense."

"Insofar as anything Caroline does ever makes sense."

Darcy chuckles. "Right. What did you say?"

"Um, that you fell for me and I definitely didn't mean for it to happen? There wasn't really much else to say. She suspects that I might have tricked you into lying during the costume theater bit, but I really don't understand how she thinks I would be smooth enough to convince you to do that. I'm kind of the opposite of smooth."

"Hardly. Your videos are a testament to your poise and persuasiveness."

"Okay, maybe I can be smooth on camera. But around you? Have you heard me lately?"

"You, um, well, I suppose you stutter sometimes. That hadn't really started yet when we filmed the video, though. If you'd wanted to smooth-talk me before then, I'm sure you could have managed it."

"Maybe, but are you the sort of person who can be smooth-talked?"

"By you? I might have been receptive."

Lizzie feels the heat rise in her cheeks. She wants to crawl under Charlotte's desk and curl up in a ball. "Seriously?"

"You underestimate yourself." There's a pause. "Why did you start stuttering around me anyway? You were so eloquent the day you summoned me to Charlotte's office, and all the way through making the video."

"I could ask you the same question. It's not like my verbal tics arose in isolation."

"Hmm. I honestly don't know why it's gotten harder to talk to you. I guess—well, saying goodbye was harder than having a regular conversation, and it was strange to talk to you after a few days without much contact, and it was awkward to realize that I'd walked in on a conversation you were having with your sisters, and I just—something felt different."

"Why didn't you talk to me after we made the video, anyway?"

"I didn't know if you wanted any contact with me. We'd made the video, we'd both had our atonement, and I thought perhaps you'd like to be done. Why didn't you talk to me?"

"I don't know. You're just—intimidating."

"I am?"

"I mean, you're like twice my height, and it's not like you're shy about your judgements of other people, and—you're a CEO, for goodness' sake."

"Still. I believe Fitz characterized me as an agoraphobic lobster. If anyone should be afraid, it's me. I'm the one who doesn't know how to function in social situations."

"Yeah, but the point of a lobster is that it's got claws. And I'm the one who's gotten pinched."

Darcy sighs. "Fair enough. I'm sorry for the way I acted when we first met. But what could you possibly have to fear from my judgment now? You know how highly I think of you."

Lizzie squirms. She doesn't know what to do with Darcy's compliments. "So what this all boils down to is that we've barely spoken in the past six days for no good reason?"

"Yes, I suppose so." Darcy pauses. "Does this mean you'd like to talk to me again?"

"I mean, I know you're busy and you've got a lot to catch up on—"

"If you'd like to say no, you don't need to couch it in concern for my work."

"No! I'm not trying to say no. I just don't want you to feel obligated."

"I would love to talk to you again soon if you would let me, Lizzie. This is entirely dependent on your will. Unfortunately, this particular conversation must end soon, because I can't afford to give myself much more of a lunch break."

"Oh, God, I didn't mean—"

"It has been a pleasure to speak with you, Lizzie. Feel free to call again if you feel so inclined. As you can imagine, evenings work best for me, but I can manage lunch breaks if you prefer."

"I'll be in touch, then."

"Thank you. Until then." The line goes dead.

Lizzie lowers her phone from her ear and then stares at it for a while, but at least this time her arm isn't spasming. She's still sitting there with her phone in one hand when Charlotte comes back to get her for lunch a few minutes later.

Charlotte looks Lizzie up and down and then grins. "You did it, didn't you?"

Lizzie grins back in spite of herself. "You owe me some Chinese."

"Well? What happened?"

"Awkward small talk? We've agreed to keep in touch, so that's a plus."

"That's _it_? You make your longest video ever with this guy, and now all you can manage is awkward small talk?"

Lizzie traces a circle on the floor with her foot. "It's harder over the phone, okay?"

"Come on, you must have talked about something."

"We commiserated about his aunt, and I told him about Caroline's visit."

"You did?"

"I mean, I figured he'd see it on the next video anyway."

"Good point. Did you tell him about the seduction part?"

"Yeah. He said I could have smooth-talked him if I tried."

Charlotte shakes her head. "Wow. He's got it bad."

Lizzie half-smiles. "I know."

Charlotte grins in a way that makes Lizzie nervous. "So, did you tell him you like him?"

"No! I've only been on good terms with him for eight days, Charlotte. God!"

Charlotte frowns. "But you've been obsessed with him for months."

"Will everyone shut up about that already?"

"Geez, Lizzie, calm down. I just want this to work. Okay?"

"Give. It. Time."

"Fine. Speaking of time, it's about time for lunch. Are you ready?"

Lizzie stands. "Yeah. Let's go."


	9. Lydia

**Disclaimer: Jane Austen, Bernie Su, and Hank Green have claims on these characters. I don't.**

 **A/N: Sorry for the obscene wait. I was in a really intense creative writing class this past year and it took all of my creative energy. I've already started chapter ten, though, so hopefully there aren't more long waits in store for you. I'm only planning on making this ten or eleven chapters total, so we're nearly done!**

Talking to Darcy has gone well since Lizzie left Collins and Collins. They speak on the phone every Tuesday and Thursday evening for about an hour, because that's when Darcy's sister has conditioning sessions. Lizzie isn't particularly surprised that Darcy schedules his conversations with her around his sister. He's a very devoted brother, as has been evident since the night of the big fight at Collins and Collins.

Lizzie has recently been feeling the strain of being a devoted sister. She kept the house from burning to the ground or being otherwise destroyed during Lydia's birthday party, but partying at Carter's every night since is wearing on her. Lizzie's only 24, but she feels like she can't keep up with Lydia. Come to think of it, she was never in the habit of staying out late, not this many nights in a row. But she and Charlotte went to some parties in their day, and she never felt this exhausted after any of them. There it is: Lizzie is getting old.

Lydia, meanwhile, is refusing to act her age in any way other than to legally buy alcohol. She refused to see the danger in throwing such a huge, wild birthday party, and now it's like nothing exists except partying.

Lizzie knows she should have already shopped for a birthday present for Lydia, but December birthdays always sneak up on her. And now, given the week Lydia's put her through, Lizzie knows exactly what kind of birthday present her little sister needs. The book practically leaps off the shelf and into her hands.

Capturing the gift-giving on camera seems like a great idea when Lydia is impressed by and grateful for the necklace. Score! Lizzie is just thinking that this moment, in its own way, rivals the sweetness of some of the videos of Bing and Jane, when Lydia cracks up about the book. "Thanks, Lizzie, you're so good at joke gifts!"

Lizzie frowns. "It's not a joke gift."

Lydia's face falls. "Oh."

"I just thought, you know, you're 21 now, and a new year might be a good time to find a new, more grown-up Lydia!" Lizzie waves her hands up and down in Lydia's direction as if trying to encompass the entirety of her younger sister.

Lydia tosses her orange hair over her shoulder. "Pfft. Being grown-up is totes squaresville, sis."

"It doesn't have to be! There are plenty of upsides to being a mature, responsible adult!"

Lydia rolls her eyes. "I'm doing fine already."

"I'm really proud of you for going to your classes recently, Lydia," Lizzie replies, "but the amount of partying you've been doing this week is out of control."

Lydia throws her arms wide. "It's my birthweek!"

Lizzie gives her a hard look. "It's still a bad sign that you don't remember your birthday party."

Lydia tosses her hair again. "Whatevs. I know the party was totes amazeballs, and that's all that matters."

"That's not all that matters, and you're getting too old to act like it is! I'm not always going to be around to keep an eye on you."

Lydia crosses her arms. "I can take care of myself."

Lizzie crosses her arms back. "I've had to _carry you home_ the last three nights."

"If you hadn't done it, someone would've."

"Oh my God, Lydia. You are way too old to actually believe that. Grow up."

Lydia holds up the book. "So what you're telling me is that I need to change."

Lizzie uncrosses her arms and gestures again, pleading with her sister to understand. "Everyone needs to change, Lydia—it's not a bad thing!"

"Right. So I'm sure you gave our father a book on how to manage our finances better. And maybe you gave our mother a book on how to be less involved in her daughters' lives. What about Jane? Any words of advice for our beloved older sister?" Lydia's voice starts out loud and angry but gets thin, fragile to the point of breaking by the end.

Lizzie can't find words. She didn't think of it that way. Lydia's wrong, of course, but why exactly?

"Nope? Just me, then." Lydia gets up, ruffly skirt flouncing as she stands, and starts to leave the room.

Lizzie twists around on her stool, watching her sister. "Lydia! You know I didn't mean it like that!"

Lydia pauses, her hand on the doorknob. "Oh, I know how you meant it." Then she leaves.

Lizzie edits the video—Charlotte is busy wrapping up for the holidays—and posts it the following morning. She's surprised when her phone rings during lunch. The screen says William Darcy, but he never calls her during the day.

Lizzie sets down her sandwich and heads for her room to take the call. The first thing she says when she picks up is "Darcy? Are you all right?"

"You need to apologize to Lydia immediately." Darcy's voice is low and stern.

This is not what Lizzie was expecting. Darcy's never given her a direct order before. She bites down a scream of frustration. "Excuse me? Since when do you run my life?"

"Forgive me, Lizzie. I would never attempt to run your life. But this—on this one matter I must exhort you in the strongest possible terms. Make up with your sister."

"This is not your decision." Lizzie forces her tone to remain even. She hasn't really been mad at Darcy since they started talking, and it feels weird. Big. Hot.

"I am too well acquainted with the danger of allowing one's younger sister to feel unloved. I cannot stand by in this matter."

"Lydia and Gigi are not the same person."

Darcy sighs. "That does not prevent them from being vulnerable in similar ways."

"Lydia's not going to get mixed up with George. _I_ dated George. She'd feel weird about doing anything with my ex. Besides, you can't actually think Lydia and Gigi's lives are going to line up like that."

"I am not making claims about George specifically—although Lydia did flirt with him while you were dating him, so I don't think we can rule out the possibility of either of them being willing to date the other. But that is beside the point. The point is that feeling unloved by one's family can lead people to latch onto anyone who promises affection and approval, no matter what ulterior motives that person may have. I cannot allow you to place Lydia in that position."

Lizzie huffs. "Lydia can't possibly think I don't love her. If I didn't love her, why would I want her to take better care of herself?"

"I, likewise, was just trying to take care of Gigi and teach her the skills and habits she needed to get by in this world. Judgment speaks for itself, Lizzie, whether you want it to or not."

"Even if it does, Gigi only had you and your aunt for family. You two can both be pretty judgmental. Lydia's got Jane and Mom on her side."

There's a pause. Finally, Darcy says, "I cannot force your hand, Lizzie. You must do what you think is best."

"Right, and I only do what I think is best when you remind me to."

There's an even longer silence this time. Lizzie is beginning to wonder whether there's something wrong with the connection when Darcy says, "I didn't mean to suggest—"

Suddenly she doesn't want to hear it. "Yeah, well, you did anyway. Bye." She presses the End Call button and tosses her phone down on her bed. Then she flops onto the bed herself, but after a few minutes restless energy gets her up. How dare he? How could Darcy presume to tell her how to live her life? She has to vent. She wishes Charlotte were around, but she's driving back from Huntsford today. Thank goodness Jane got home late last night. Talking to Jane is riskier, since she might take Lydia's side, but Lizzie doesn't really have a choice. She boots up her computer, furiously types up a transcript of her conversation with Darcy, prints two copies, turns the camera on, grits out an intro, and fetches her older sister for costume theater.

Jane looks over the script and gives a tight smile before obediently putting on the brown newsie cap. The two of them read the scene all the way through, and Jane gets Darcy's inflection nearly perfect while Lizzie snaps and snarls and reasons all over again. When the scene is over, before Lizzie has the chance to say anything, Jane takes off the newsie cap and laughs sadly. "You and Lydia have always been so alike."

Lizzie goggles at her. " _Alike?_ What planet are you living on?"

Jane smiles tightly and tucks a lock of wavy red hair behind her ear. "A planet where I have two wonderful, stubborn sisters who don't want to take advice from anybody."

Lizzie opens and closes her mouth a few times. Finally, she says, "It's not the same!"

Jane raises her eyebrows. "Are you sure?"

"Lydia's putting herself in real danger. I'm trying to get her to keep herself safe!"

"But Darcy's right, Lizzie. Letting Lydia feel unloved isn't going to keep her safe."

Lizzie crosses her arms. "If I didn't love her, I wouldn't care whether she took care of herself. If she feels unloved, she's deliberately misunderstanding me."

Jane smiles knowingly. "Where have we heard that one before?"

"It's not the same!" Lizzie insists again.

"Oh yeah? How?"

"Damn it, Jane, if I wanted hard questions I would have asked Charlotte. Or Darcy. That's not your role in my life!"

Jane shakes her head. "It's my role to help my sisters get along. That's all I want. And I think you should apologize to Lydia."

Lizzie puts her head in her hands and groans. "Ugh. No. Go away."

Lizzie can feel Jane standing up beside her. Her voice sounds like it's coming from near the door when she says, "Think about what Darcy said, Lizzie."

Lizzie waits until she hears the door close and then sits up and looks at the camera. "Can you believe that?" she demands. "I just—they all—why don't they understand—forget it." She reaches forward and turns off the camera.

The video is easy to edit—all she has to do is cut out some of the time spent fetching Jane and then insert the title sequence—but by now she's starting to calm down, and pieces of what Jane and Darcy have said are beginning to sink in. She re-watches yesterday's video just because she feels like she has to, and for the first time she really hears the catch in Lydia's voice when she asks about whether Lizzie is giving unsolicited advice to the rest of the family. Lizzie has to admit that it's not defensiveness; it's pure hurt.

And then Darcy's words from Collins and Collins come back to her: _It was my fault, of course—I'd pushed her so hard that she hadn't felt good enough for me, and it had been easy for George to prey on her insecurity._ He wasn't moralizing that night, wasn't twisting the past so that it would dictate Lizzie's future; again, it was pure hurt.

Lizzie wants to protest again that Lydia misunderstood her, but it's occurred to her by now that what Lydia feels matters in its own right, justified or not. So Lizzie walks across the hall to Lydia's room and knocks on her sister's door. "Hey, Lydia, it's Lizzie." She tries to keep her voice gentle, or at the very least not angry.

"Are you sure you want to talk to me? I might not be mature enough for you." There's venom in Lydia's tone.

Lizzie opens the door. Lydia is sitting in her thonelike chair looking at her phone. "Can we talk?"

Lydia looks up. "Fine."

Lizzie sits on the end of Lydia's bed, on top of the tangle of hot pink bedding. "I'm really sorry about yesterday. A birthday present is a crappy way to give someone advice, especially when they weren't asking for it."

Lydia sets down her phone. "Yeah, it is."

"And I'm sorry we had that conversation on camera."

"Okay."

Lizzie sighs. "But I really am worried about you. Jane's working in LA now, and I've got another shadowing experience starting in a few weeks, so neither of us is going to be here to look after you. I'm glad you hang out with Mary, but she doesn't usually come to the bar with us, so you're going to be on your own pretty soon. I just don't want anyone to take advantage of you."

Lydia rolls her eyes. "I've been fine up until now, sis."

"Jane and I have also been around most of the time up until now."

"Not the past few months."

Lizzie bites her lip. "I just want you to be careful."

Lydia shrugs and nods. "I suppose I've heard that one before."

Lizzie nods back. "I really am sorry for using your birthday present as a way to tell you that."

"Okay." Lydia's tone is subdued.

"So are we good?" Lizzie asks.

Lydia half-smiles. "Only if my Christmas present is way better than my birthday present."

Lizzie laughs. "Deal."

She films a short segment explaining that she thought things through and realized that Darcy and Jane may have been right about some things and that she's apologized to Lydia and promised to get her a better Christmas present. Then, after dinner, she calls Darcy and puts her phone on speaker mode. She'll cut out this footage if it doesn't go well or if it's too long, but since she got her argument with Darcy on camera via costume theater, she figures she may as well try to get some resolution on camera as well.

Darcy picks up after the first ring. "Hello, Lizzie," he says in a cautious tone.

"Hi, Darcy. I want to apologize for earlier," says Lizzie.

"You needn't apologize. You were right: I was presuming too much and trying to claim control over your decisions. _I_ am sorry."

"But you were right, too: I needed to make up with Lydia. I'm sorry for getting defensive and cutting you off. I talked to Jane about what you said and she sided with you, and after a couple hours I started to see sense. Lydia and I are good now, and I just wanted to make sure that you and I were as well."

"You need never worry about my disposition toward you."

Lizzie tries to ignore the warmth that spreads through her abdomen when she hears that. "Thanks, Darcy." Her voice has gone soft in spite of her efforts to the contrary.

"I'm glad you and Lydia have made up and that you are no longer upset with me. If that is all, may I go? I'm sorry, but I'm in the middle of having dinner with Gigi."

"Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt. You could have let it go to voicemail—"

"No, I couldn't have. I needed to hear what you had to say. But now, if I may—?"

"Right. Of course. Have a good night, Darcy. I'm sorry, again."

"I'm sorry, too, Lizzie. Good night."

The line goes dead. Lizzie looks at the camera and says, "Well, Internet, it's been an eventful day, but all's well that ends well, right?"

Just then, Lydia races into her room. "Hey, sis, are you coming to Carter's tonight?"

"Again?" Lizzie groans. "That'll be five nights partying out of the past six!"

"Come on, my birthweek is almost over," Lydia wheedles.

"Okay, fine," says Lizzie, grinning. She's such a pushover for her baby sister.

"Yay!" Lydia throws open Lizzie's closet door. "I'll help you pick out your outfit."

Lizzie turns around to watch Lydia sift through her clothes. "Just no bikini tops this time, all right?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," says Lydia.

Lizzie turns off the camera.


	10. Dr Gardiner

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of this.**

 **A/N: Sorry, my summer job ate my brain/time/energy/etc. way more than I would have thought. Also, this story just keeps getting longer and this isn't the last chapter after all! I've started the next one, so here's hoping I can wrap it up soon.**

The day after Christmas, Dr. Gardiner sends Lizzie an urgent email: "Your January/February shadowing experience has fallen through. I've arranged an alternative experience at Pemberley Digital. I think you know the CEO. ;) I have friends who need a house-sitter during this time as well, so lodging will be free. You begin shadowing on January 6. Season's greetings, Dr. Gardiner." Lizzie reads the email four times in case she's misunderstood something, and then she calls Darcy.

Darcy picks up after the second ring. "Lizzie, are you all right?"

"Yes, I'm fine. You'll never guess what I have to tell you."

"No, I suppose I won't. What is it?"

"The shadowing experience Dr. Gardiner and I had lined up for the next few months fell through."

"I'm sorry to hear that. I hope this doesn't affect your ability to graduate when you had planned."

"No, no, nothing like that. Dr. Gardiner lined up something else instead. Guess where?" Lizzie is trying to keep herself from giggling with moderate success.

"I haven't the slightest idea."

"Pemberley!"

There's a long silence on the other end of the line, so long that Lizzie starts to wonder if Darcy finds the news upsetting rather than exciting. Then Darcy says, "Lizzie, is this one of those times when you are teasing me? I cannot tell." There's a slight catch in his voice and Lizzie nearly melts.

"No!" Lizzie assures him immediately. "I would never tease you about something like this. I'm coming to San Francisco in two weeks. I thought you'd like to know."

"I . . . I do like it, yes."

"Good." There's a long pause. "Well, that was the news."

"Lizzie—would you allow me to take you out to dinner on your first night here? To welcome you?"

Is he asking her out? Lizzie isn't sure. "I don't know if I'll be very good company right when I arrive. I'll have spent all day traveling."

"Right. Of course. How thoughtless of me." Darcy's voice is falsely level, but the dejection is evident.

"Darcy—that isn't what I—I mean . . ."

"What is it, Lizzie?"

Lizzie swallows. "If the offer stands, I'd love to go to dinner with you. I mean, maybe not my first night, but sometime. If that's what you want."

"It . . . is, yes."

"Okay then."

"There's a very nice restaurant not too far from the Pemberley offices. I think you'll find it quite excellent." His voice is gentle now.

Lizzie chews the inside of her lip. "I'm not sure I'm 'nice restaurant' person."

"I see."

"I mean—God, I'm sorry—I'm sure it would be lovely. I just . . ."

"Lizzie. If the price is what concerns you, let me assure you that I'm planning on paying."

"So it would be a date."

"It . . . would, yes."

Lizzie doesn't know what to say. Screaming, "Thank God!" doesn't seem appropriate, somehow.

"Forgive me, Lizzie. I have been too forward. I promise I will not bother you like this again. Please accept my apologies. Have a good rest of your day."

"Darcy, wait!"

"I do not see how prolonging this conversation could do either of us any good."

"I do want to go on a date with you," Lizzie says in a rush in case Darcy's about to hang up. "I'm sorry—I just didn't know what to say. But if the offer stands, my answer is yes."

"Please say you are not teasing me." There's even more of a catch in his voice this time.

"God, Darcy, _no_." Lizzie lets her voice grow tender and repeats, "No. You can't possibly think I'm cruel enough to joke with you about this."

"I'm having trouble believing I'm worthy of a serious positive response."

" _How?_ "

"I started our acquaintanceship off on the wrong foot. I was deeply unkind to you at the Gibson wedding. I hurt both you and your family on numerous occasions after that. Just two weeks ago I tried to seize control of your decisions. Why should I deserve a chance with you?"

"Because none of that still matters! We both messed up a lot at the beginning, Darcy. But we've also both apologized, and we've moved past it. We've been friends for a couple months now, and you've been gracious and forgiving and patient about a lot of things. We both mishandled that conversation two weeks ago, but we both meant well and we've talked about it since. You don't need to worry that I'm still mad at you for anything."

"I'm glad. But just because you're not mad at me doesn't mean you have to go on a date with me."

"I told you, I _want_ to go on a date with you."

"Really?"

" _Yes_."

There's a long pause. "I look forward to it, then." Then there was a sigh. "I apologize, Lizzie, but Gigi has made hot chocolate from scratch and I think it's getting cold. I'll see you in two weeks."

"Oh, right. I'll let you get back to Gigi, then. See you soon."

Lizzie stares at her phone for a few minutes after Darcy hangs up, not out of nerves or indecision as she often has, but rather out of sheer happiness. She and Darcy are going on a date! It's hardly a surprise—things have been leading up to this for months, even if she hasn't always wanted to admit it—but it's still a thrill to have it finally happening, to have given in to what part of her wanted all along.

Lizzie doesn't tell anyone that she and Darcy are going on a date until Charlotte comes over the next day. By this point, she's used to scheduling confessions and revelations so that they'll be caught on camera. First, Lizzie tells Charlotte about the new arrangements to shadow at Pemberley Digital.

Charlotte frowns. "Isn't that Darcy's company?"

Lizzie shrugs and tries to play it cool, but she can't entirely hold back a smile. "Yeah."

"You do realize your video diaries are public, right? And that the fact that they're your thesis project means that Dr. Gardiner is basically guaranteed to see them?"

"So?"

"Aren't you worried that it's going to look like a conflict of interest for you to be shadowing at the company of a man you . . ."

"A man I what? What are you trying to insinuate, oh bestie of mine?"

Charlotte glowers at her. "I'm trying to think of a way to phrase this that you won't immediately contradict. Um, a man who's in love with you, and whose attentions you enjoy?"

"You mean, more of a conflict of interest than shadowing at a company where my since-fetuses best friend works, and whose CEO I proposed to in the second grade?"

Charlotte laughs. "Touche."

"Honestly, I think Dr. Gardiner is hoping something will happen. When she told me I was going to be shadowing at Pemberley Digital, she said, 'I think you know the CEO,' and then she added a _winky face_."

"She didn't."

"Oh, yeah, she did."

"You can't possibly be telling me that you think your adviser is trying to set you up."

Lizzie shrugs. "She was your adviser too."

Charlotte bites her lip and then says, "You know, I almost _can_ see her trying to set you up. Hey, does the way you're talking about this mean that you're okay with being set up with Darcy now?"

"What do you mean, the way I'm talking about this?"

Charlotte waves her hands in Lizzie's direction. "You know. Playful. Smiley. Not about to bite my head off."

Lizzie puts her hands on her hips in mock offense. "I have never bitten your head off."

Charlotte rolls her eyes. "You know what I mean. Also, you're evading the question: Does that mean you're okay with other people trying to get you two together?"

Lizzie sits up straighter and pulls her sweater closer around her. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Charlotte wagged a finger in Lizzie's direction. "Something is definitely up here. What are you not saying?"

"What do you mean, what am I not—" Lizzie tries, but then she collapses, slouches a bit, and says, "Fine. I called Darcy yesterday as soon as Dr. Gardiner told me I was going to shadow at Pemberley, and he asked if I'd let him take me out to dinner, and I said yes."

"And you waited 24 hours to tell your since-fetuses best friend that you had a date?"

"Well, I haven't told anyone else yet, either." Lizzie sighs. "Come on, Charlotte. It's basically still Christmas. We both had family stuff last night, the email came pretty late in the day, you were already planning on coming over today so we could film something, I thought it would be good to catch this on camera—"

Charlotte laughs. "Calm down, Lizzie. I'm not that mad."

Lizzie smiles. "Okay. Good. Thanks."

Charlotte smiles too. "So . . . ? What are the plans?"

"Dinner? At a nice restaurant? God, what am I going to wear?"

Charlotte gets up and opens Lizzie's closet door. "You've got plenty of dresses. It's not like Darcy's going to take you to dinner somewhere that only accepts ball gowns. You'll be fine. Hey, what about this green one? It's kind of lacy. Nice."

Lizzie turns to face Charlotte. "Yeah, that could work. But Char? Let's do an outro before we pick me out a date outfit."

"Good plan," says Charlotte, hanging the green dress on the closet door knob and coming back to take a seat on her stool again. "Do you have an outro worked out yet?"

"Yeah. I was thinking we should tell them 'Happy New Year.' Say 'Happy New Year,' Charlotte!"

Charlotte waves at the camera and mimics Lizzie's voice: "Happy New Year, Charlotte!"

Lizzie waves, too. "Happy New Year, everybody!"

Lizzie turns off the camera. "I'd be willing to edit that," says Charlotte.

"Really?"

Charlotte knocks Lizzie's shoulder with her own. "It's thanks to you I've got this much time off. And I like working on your videos."

"Are you sure?"

Charlotte nods. "Yeah." Then she gets up. "So, do you like this dress?"

Lizzie squints at it and then nods. "Yeah, it'll work."

Lizzie and Charlotte hang out for a few more hours and then wind up baking snickerdoodles with Jane and Lydia. Lydia starts eating the dough, and then the rest of them give into the temptation, and they only end up with half as many cookies as the recipe was supposed to make. It's nice to just do something simple together—and nice that Jane can finally stand the idea of snickerdoodles. She and Bing are semi-officially dating again; they've met up several times in Los Angeles for coffee or lunch, and apparently he's been talking about taking her to dinner. Bing (and, unfortunately, Caroline) are planning on stopping back at Netherfield for a few days around New Year's, and there's the prospect of another Carter's outing, if not more.

Lizzie spends the next week oscillating between getting ready to head to San Francisco and trying to make the most of the time she has left before she, Jane, Charlotte, and Bing all scatter again. Jane and Bing kiss at the stroke of midnight on New Year's and finally make their relationship Facebook official. Lizzie and Darcy text a bit, though they don't talk on the phone because Darcy is intent on spending as much time with Gigi as possible, and Lizzie is just plain busy. Charlotte helps Lizzie pack, and Lydia even helps her shop for a few new outfits, although Lizzie has to shoot down more than half of Lydia's suggestions ("No, I am _not_ going to wear a crop-top. Not happening") and steer her away from the mall and toward consignment shops.

And then it's January 5, and, after a relatively short flight, Lizzie is in San Francisco. She unpacks her suitcases and collapses into bed, but it takes her nearly two hours to get to sleep. _Tomorrow I'll be at Pemberley . . ._


	11. Gigi

**Disclaimer: There are brilliant minds behind the LBD, and of course behind** _ **Pride and Prejudice**_ **. Mine is not one of them.**

Lizzie sleeps so badly that she drinks multiple cups of caffeinated tea to wake up in the morning and then walks the several blocks—she's aware how lucky she is that it's not more—to the Pemberley offices. She's jittery and overcaffeinated when she arrives, but she forgets how tired she is when she steps inside the lobby. The whole space is open, white, and airy, with potted trees in the corner. A few tables with slender, curved legs and mirror-like surfaces are laden with miniature cakes, vegetable platters, and glasses of water and juice, and there are white couches against the walls. Between Lizzie and these wonders, though, is a receptionist's desk, white like almost everything else in the room. An Asian woman sits behind the desk. A large computer is positioned next to her so that it doesn't obscure her view of the entrance. She smiles at Lizzie as soon as Lizzie clears the revolving door. "Hello, and welcome to Pemberley Digital. Please state your name and business."

"I'm Lizzie Bennet. I'm shadowing here?"

The receptionist looks at her computer and clicks a few times with her mouse. Then she says, "Your tour guide will be right with you. Feel free to sit on one of the couches or take advantage of the snacks in the meantime."

Lizzie is too caffeinated to sit down, but she can't resist trying one of the little cakes. She selects a chocolate one and is most of the way done when an elevator chimes. Lizzie turns to watch the elevator door open and is just in time to see the elevator doors whoosh open and a young woman with dark hair and tan skin, clad in a tweed blazer and a black and red skirt, step into the lobby. The woman locks eyes with Lizzie. "Are you Lizzie Bennet?"

"Yes. Are you my tour guide?"

"Yep. Gigi Darcy, at your service." Gigi holds out her hand to shake.

 _Oh my God. Gigi Darcy._ Lizzie crams the last bite of cake—it would have been better as two bites—into her mouth and then shakes Gigi's hand, immediately cursing herself for making herself unable to talk and probably displaying disgusting manners. Aren't rich people supposed to be uptight about that?

As soon as Gigi lets go of Lizzie's hand, she says, "Oh my gosh, I can't believe I'm finally meeting you. William's told me _so_ much about you. He's totally right when he says you're prettier in person. Not that you're not gorgeous in your videos, of course."

Lizzie finally manages to swallow the cake and tries to surreptitiously brush off the front of her blue sweater in case she got chocolate crumbs on it. "You've watched my videos?" She's not sure whether to be nervous, humiliated, or gratified.

Gigi walks over to the elevator and presses the "up" button. "Oh, yeah, William showed them to me. He said there was no way to describe how eloquent and engaging and beautiful you were and I'd just have to see for myself."

An elevator comes and Lizzie and Gigi get into it. Gigi selects the button for the rooftop. _Rooftop?_ "Oh. So you're not mad at me for the early ones?" Lizzie asks.

Gigi half-turns to face Lizzie. "I know as well as anyone how frustrating William can be. I don't blame you for getting hung up on that. You know him better now and that's what matters."

"I definitely know him better now, that's for sure."

The elevator reaches its destination and the doors glide open. Lizzie takes one look at the rooftop and pinches herself to make sure she's not dreaming. The place is glassed in, like a greenhouse, and there's a pool in the middle. The pool is edged with a few feet of tile, but after that the floor gives way to dirt, in which are planted tropical trees, ferns, and flowers of all varieties. There's even a path across the pool from the elevators, leading into the artificial jungle. The vegetation all but obscures the view of the city beyond the glass, and it would be easy to forget you were in a metropolis up here. Strangely, the room doesn't smell of chlorine, but rather of earth and damp.

Gigi steps out of the elevator. "I thought we'd start the tour at the top of the building and work our way down. As you can see, this is the rooftop, and we've got the topiary and the pool up here. The pool is salt water because . . . Lizzie?"

Lizzie is still standing in the elevator, gaping at her surroundings. "Is this place real?"

"The elevator door is going to close in a second. Come on." Gigi grabs one of Lizzie's hands and yanks her out of the elevator.

Lizzie stumbled into the artificial jungle and keeps gaping. "Seriously, is this real?"

Gigi goggles at her. "Yeah, of course. William thinks it's important for people to get exercise and have frequent contact with nature if you're going to try to be creative, so he had this built a couple years ago to boost productivity and morale. He appreciates how hard it is to get out of the city and into the wilderness when you work in tech. I mean, he would. He's practically glued to the computer most of the time. For all his talk, I think he barely ever gets up here. I used to use it a lot, but I—I don't really swim anymore."

Lizzie realizes that this last statement is courtesy of George Wickham. "I'm so sorry."

Gigi takes a deep breath and forces a smile. "It's okay. Thanks." She pushes the button to call the elevator. Lizzie has been looking out at the topiary for just long enough for the elevator to seem incongruous.

In the elevator, Gigi pushes the button for the next floor down. "We're heading to the legal department now. I know it's not exciting, but it's my job to give you a thorough tour. I'm glad you got here early—there's a school group coming in an hour and I don't think William would approve of me ditching them to keep showing you around, or vice versa."

In the next 50 minutes, Gigi takes Lizzie on brief walks through each department at Pemberley, whether legal, creative, or techy. A surprising number of employees wave at Gigi and ask about her education, her athletic career, her hobbies. Gigi smiles sheepishly at Lizzie whenever this happens. "Even if it seems like a large company," she explains after the third time someone hails her, "it's still a family business. I'm a graphic artist part-time, and I think they respect that, but I'm also their boss's baby sister. I think I'm the baby of the whole firm, actually."

Lizzie wonders what it would be like coming here if she and Darcy hadn't gotten to know each other. After all, Dr. Gardiner may still have arranged this shadowing experience, and, much though Lizzie had once hated Darcy, she can't quite see herself delaying her graduation and going into even more debt just to avoid him. Trying to look at Pemberley through her old eyes, she feels that it would be hard to continue hating Darcy when everybody smiles whenever Gigi mentions him; when he provides his employees with such lavish grounds, foods and beverages, and other perks; when everyone at his company seems happy and creatively fulfilled; when his sister clearly loves him so much. Now, as Darcy's maybe-practically-girlfriend, she thrills with pleasure at seeing how well he manages his company and his staff. He may be an uptight and exacting man, but he's also, it's clear, generous in his own way.

Gigi ends the tour on the second floor and shows Lizzie to a room where she can film her videos, provided she signs a few forms from the legal department. Just as Gigi hands Lizzie her parking pass and prepares to head out to give a tour to the school group that's coming, Lizzie says, "Gigi? Can I ask you a question?"

Gigi pauses by the door. "Sure. What do you want to know?"

Lizzie bites her lip. "It's not about Pemberley; it's about your brother."

Gigi takes a few steps toward Lizzie. "Go ahead."

Lizzie takes a deep breath and says, "Does he date a lot of women? Is this . . . routine?"

Gigi laughs lightly. "William? No. I've tried and tried to get him to go out with someone, even if it's just casual—Fitz and I have both done our best, but nothing. At least, not until you came along. I mean, there was one girl back in college, and I think that might have been pretty serious, but I was barely in high school at that point, and on the opposite side of the country, so I really couldn't tell. Bing says William liked that girl a lot. But William won't talk about what happened with her, and he hasn't been on a date in _ages_. I can't even _tell_ you how excited I was when he started talking about you. And then I saw your videos, and they confirmed that you're perfect." Gigi looked at her watch. "And now I really do have to go meet that school group. See you later!"

As Gigi shut the door behind her, Lizzie once again didn't know whether to be flattered or anxious. If she was the only woman Darcy had fallen for in a long time, then it was of paramount importance that she didn't mess this up. But it also meant she was special, the one woman in a long time to have captured the attention and affection of this exacting perfectionist.

Darcy had called Lizzie a couple of days before she came to Pemberley to say that he would need to attend to some business in L.A. and would be gone for her first few days at Pemberley. She was a sad that they couldn't see each other right away, but there was more than enough at Pemberley to keep her busy. And William, devoted brother that he was, would be delighted to see how well Lizzie and Gigi got along.

Lizzie set up her tripod and started making a video. "You know how sometimes you hear something for a while, and people say it's great, and you think, 'Yeah, it's probably pretty nice,' and then you experience it for yourself, and it's _awesome_? Well, I'm Lizzie Bennet, and I am _blown away_." She waits a beat so she'll be able to insert the title sequence, and then she says, "I guess I should have expected this from the company of someone whose best friend owns a house like Netherfield, but Pemberley is _mind-blowing_." And as she describes it, she feels her heart swelling with affection for the man who built this fairy tale of a company.

 **A/N: I'm sorry, but I'm having a lot of trouble coming up with a date scenario. One more chapter to go, and I'll try to be timely, but no promises.**


	12. The Date

**Disclaimer: Jane Austen invented Elizabeth Bennet, and Hank Green and Bernie Su re-invented her for the 21** **st** **century. I'm just borrowing her.**

 **A/N: I wrote the final chapter, and it's a date! Finally! Sorry for the wait—I hope you enjoy!**

Darcy doesn't fly in until the day of his date with Lizzie. When Lizzie realizes that this is going to be the case, she offers to postpone the date—after all, that's what they did when she was the one who was going to be just flying in. But Darcy points out that he's going to be flying _home_ , whereas Lizzie was flying to an unfamiliar city and needed to settle in. "Besides," he adds, "I'm quite eager to take you to dinner as soon as possible." After he says that, Lizzie is too happy to debate the matter anymore.

It reaches 5:00 p.m. on the day of the date and Lizzie still hasn't seen Darcy. She's not entirely surprised—he flew in this morning and has been booked solid in meetings for the rest of the day—but she hoped they could at least pass in the hall or something. Now, though, she decides to go back to the apartment, change, and do her makeup before Darcy picks her up at 6:15. She's packing up her purse when someone knocks on the door of her borrowed office. Hoping that it's Darcy, she calls, "Come in!"

Gigi pushes the door open. "Lizzie! Good. You're still here."

Lizzie slips her phone into her purse. "I was just leaving. Did you want something?"

"Yes!" Gigi says far too loudly. "I, um, had a question for you. About . . . grad school."

Lizzie settles her purse comfortably against her hip. "Oh, are you thinking of going?"

Gigi shrugs. "It's sort of a requirement, given my family."

Lizzie wonders how this squares with Darcy's determination to not be too controlling of his sister, but she doesn't want to say that to Gigi, so instead she says, "That's not such a bad thing, right?"

"No, it's just that there are a lot of applications to complete."

Lizzie smiles wryly. "I remember those days. A lot of late nights writing essays."

"So do you have any advice?"

"Yeah, don't procrastinate." Lizzie tries not to wince at how hypocritical she's being.

"That simple, huh?"

Lizzie shifts her weight from one foot to the other. "Gigi, I didn't get into very prestigious grad schools. If you want advice on this, I really think your brother is a better person to ask. Or Bing, if you talk to him. As for me, I should get going."

"Wait!" Gigi grabs her own long necklace with both hands and starts fiddling with the pendant. "There's another thing I wanted to ask you."

Lizzie shifts her purse to the other hip. "About what?"

"Um . . . it's about . . . studying!"

"About one of your classes?"

"Yes!"

"Which one?"

"Um—math!" Gigi blurts out.

Lizzie laughs. "I really don't think I'm the right person to ask about that."

"No—you're perfect!"

Lizzie frowns. "Gigi, what's going on? Is this really about math?"

Gigi bites her lip and then says, "Okay, no. I was trying to delay you until William got out of his meeting so that I would get to watch when you two saw each other for the first time."

"Don't you think that's a bit creepy?"

"I've seen every important event of the past eight months of your life, Lizzie! Of course I want to see this one! I bet your viewers do, too. Can we set up the camera?"

"Don't you think I deserve even a little bit of privacy?"

Gigi puts her hands on her hips. "I'm not asking you to show your viewers any more of yourself than you showed them of Bing."

"What about your brother? Putting up videos of Bing wasn't _his_ idea."

Gigi lifts her chin. "I'm only giving him the opportunity to rectify his public image. Besides, you can't possibly lecture me about not putting my older sibling's love life on the internet."

Lizzie smiles against her will. "Touché." She takes out her camera and tripod and gets to work setting them up. "Any word on when your brother's meeting will end? We've got 6:45 reservations and I want to change and do my makeup before then."

Gigi looks down at her phone. "He's coming now!"

Lizzie barely has the camera on when Darcy knocks on the door. "Come in!" say both Lizzie and Gigi at once.

Darcy enters, straightening his bowtie. He sees the camera immediately, as Lizzie is still right next to it, and asks, "Do you film everything in your life?"

Lizzie fake-glares at Gigi and walks forward, toward Darcy and into frame. "Blame your sister for this one." As she approaches Darcy, she is struck more than ever by their enormous height difference.

Darcy throws a cool glance at his sister. "If you'll have this on video, Gigi, I fail to see you why you need to be here in person."

Gigi smirks. "You're kicking me out?"

"Indeed," Darcy intones, his voice deep and deadpan. "I will see you in the morning. For the moment, I would like to be alone with Lizzie."

As soon as Gigi leaves, Lizzie offers to turn off the camera, but Darcy sighs and says, "I imagine your viewers will be out for your blood if you don't show them our first encounter after everything that has happened. Not that my current actions are likely to satisfy them."

"If we're really doing this, we should probably sit down." Lizzie gestures to the stools she keeps in front of the tripod's spot. "I'm guessing only our torsos are in frame right now."

Lizzie and Darcy sit, steal glances at one another, and pause for just long enough for it to be awkward. Darcy clears his throat, and then they both burst out laughing. Then they look at each other a bit more, start laughing again, and suddenly wind up kissing.

Darcy pulls back first and says, "I hope that wasn't too forward."

Lizzie leans forward until their noses brush. "Do it again."

It's multiple minutes before they pull apart for good. Then Lizzie laughs and says, "I'm going to need to edit some things out."

Darcy chuckles and replies, "I hope so. As public as I am aware this relationship must inevitably be, I do hope some things will remain private."

Lizzie takes Darcy's hand, feeling suddenly anxious. "Do you mind? The public part?"

Darcy kisses Lizzie's fingers. "How could I? You're a talented storyteller, and you've found both the medium and the material that work for you. I could not wish that were otherwise without wishing _you_ were otherwise."

Lizzie leans against him. "How did I get lucky enough to meet you?"

Darcy stills and goes almost tense. Lizzie looks at him in concern and dismay. "Did I say something wrong?" she asks.

"You view it more as a blessing than as a curse," Darcy says softly.

Lizzie kisses him again, several times. "Definitely."

Darcy strokes her arm with the hand that is not already holding hers. "I assure you that I am the lucky one."

Lizzie smiles and chuckles quietly. "I think we're cheesier than Bing and Jane."

Darcy presses his face into Lizzie's hair and says, "I didn't understand before."

Lizzie pulls back a bit to look at him. "Understand what?"

"What you just called 'cheesy.'" Darcy pushes Lizzie's hair back and cradles her head in his hand. "Why people act romantic. I understood caring, but not—not like this."

"Didn't you date someone in college?"

Darcy removes his hand from Lizzie's face and runs it through his own hair. "That. Yes." He sighs. "Maybe what I'm saying is that I didn't understand why people try again when they know they might get hurt. Or why they would try in the first place when they know other people who have been hurt."

Lizzie tilts her head to one side. "What happened? I mean, if you don't mind my asking."

Darcy looks down. "It wasn't Coleen's fault. It was right at the beginning of college, only two years after my parents died, and in the interim I'd devoted myself to taking care of Gigi and staying out of Aunt Catherine's way. I was looking for more than one person could provide. She let me know it, too, when she couldn't handle that role anymore."

Lizzie leans in and kisses Darcy's cheek. "I'm sorry."

"Why? I have you now."

Lizzie rests her head on Darcy's shoulder. "Yes, you do." Then she straightens up. "What time is it? I was hoping to change and put on makeup before dinner."

"You don't need it, you know."

"Don't need what?"

"Makeup. You're beautiful, with or without it."

Lizzie eyes him curiously. "How are you the guy who had a checklist for what makes an accomplished woman?"

Darcy kisses the top of her head. "You have improved me. I told you in October, you put my checklist to shame."

Lizzie smiles and stands. "I'm glad of that, but I'd still like to change, at least."

Darcy stands, steps away from Lizzie, and straightens his clothes. "Right. Of course. I'll drive you home." He opens the door as if to allow Lizzie to pass through.

Lizzie is in the process of taking her tripod down, having just turned her camera off. "Darcy—"

Darcy turns and sees that Lizzie is otherwise engaged. "Ah. Of course. How thoughtless of me."

Lizzie finishes collapsing her tripod and fits both it and her camera into her purse. Often she leaves those at Pemberley—the office she's borrowing locks—but she has a feeling she might want to vlog outside of work hours soon. She's grateful for the offer of a ride home, especially while carrying this extra weight.

Darcy continues to hold the door until Lizzie is ready to leave, and then he leads her through the corridors to the parking garage. On the way, he says, "You've said you've been impressed with the facilities here. Is that still true?"

" _Everything_ here is amazing—the facilities, the number of departments, the work that's being done, all of it."

Darcy glances back at Lizzie. "You needn't say that just to put me at ease."

Lizzie laughs. "Since when have I ever said anything just to put you at ease?"

They reach the parking garage. Lizzie realizes that she's never been in Darcy's actual car before—in the summer, she was mostly in her own or Bing's, and Darcy was using a rental car in Huntsford. His car, which she glimpsed a few times at Netherfield, is a sports car, but somewhat understated—dark gray with ordinary-looking tires and a body that's sleek rather than showy. Lizzie gets into the passenger seat gingerly, half-seriously worrying that she's going to discolor the leather seat with her sheer mundanity. Darcy's motions, beside her, are confident, and the car purrs for him when he turns the key in the ignition.

"I don't know where you're staying; you're going to need to give me directions," Darcy says.

Lizzie obliges, and they arrive at the house where she's living within five minutes. As Lizzie makes to get out of the car, Darcy says her name, and, when Lizzie turns to him, he says, "To get to the restaurant on time, I need to be back here in twenty minutes at most. That's not enough time for me to go home, and I'm appropriately dressed as it is. Would you mind if I came inside with you?" Lizzie hesitates, and Darcy says, "Forgive me, I have been too forward. I can wait in the car—"

Lizzie shakes her head. "Don't be ridiculous. I was just trying to figure out where to put you. But we'll figure it out—come on."

Lizzie leads Darcy into the house and installs him in the front room, where he assures her he can either browse the bookshelves or catch up on the news on his phone. Then she heads off to her bedroom to change. She's glad to know what Darcy's wearing and especially glad that he's chosen a soft olive green collared shirt and a green plaid bowtie to offset his black pants, suit coat, and shoes. She wonders if he dressed that way in anticipation of her wearing green, since it's her best color and complements her eyes and dark red hair. Regardless of Darcy's thought process, his outfit matches well with the lacy dress she was planning on wearing.

Fifteen minutes later, Lizzie returns downstairs wearing a lacy green dress, sheer nylons, black heels, lipstick, blush, eyeliner, and mascara. Darcy, who's seated on the sofa scrolling on his phone, looks up as she descends, and his smile and the widening of his eyes are both obvious for a moment before he fights his face into a neutral expression. "Lizzie. You look . . . lovely."

Lizzie smiles. "So do you, Darcy."

Darcy stands and joins Lizzie at the door. "You don't have to reciprocate to be polite."

Lizzie opens the door, ushers Darcy out, and locks it behind them. "I'm not being polite. You're always impeccably dressed, and good looks clearly run in the Darcy family."

Darcy leads Lizzie to the car and unlocks it. "You really think so?"

Lizzie gets into the car, less timidly this time. "Darcy, you're going to need to stop doubting me. My unflattering bluntness was the foundation of our friendship. It hasn't changed and it's not going to, no matter what this becomes."

Darcy, driving by this point, says, "I am eternally grateful for your honesty. I will endeavor to believe you."

It's a short but traffic-filled drive and then an elevator ride to the rooftop restaurant. They chat on the way, but once they arrive Lizzie doesn't have mental space for anything but awe. The dining room is full of round tables covered in white table cloths and six courses' worth of silverware. Most of the tables are topped with huge bouquets of white roses, but the largest tables feature ice sculptures instead. The whole space is lit by glittering chandeliers, and a tail-coated pianist is playing a Steinway in the corner.

A black-clad waitress leads Darcy and Lizzie to a small table near the windows overlooking the city. As soon as the waitress hands them padded black folders that turn out to be menus and leaves, Lizzie looks at Darcy, panicking, and says, "What kind of place is this?"

"A country club," Darcy replies.

"In the _city_?"

Darcy sighs. "An outpost. The main clubhouse and golf course and tennis courts and everything are further out, but they operate this restaurant downtown as well."

"What possessed you to bring _me here_?"

Darcy smiles. "I've wanted to bring a woman here for years."

"But I'm—if they find out I'm—I mean—I'm—"

"You're my _guest_." There's finality in Darcy's tone. "You belong here because I say you do."

Lizzie takes a few deep breaths and tries to stop freaking out. That effort is undone as soon as she glances down at her menu—it's full of words she doesn't recognize or can't define, such as "panko," "buerre blanc," and "capers." She looks up at Darcy. "What do I order? Is this menu even in _English_?"

Darcy chuckles. "You're not a picky eater, are you?"

Lizzie shakes her head.

"Vegetarian? Gluten free?"

Lizzie shakes her head some more.

Darcy closes his menu. "All right then. We'll both get the tasting menu. Just eat what's in front of you and I'll tell you what it is if you're curious."

The waitress comes back shortly thereafter, and Darcy orders everything for both himself and Lizzie, including wine. When the waitress is gone, Lizzie says, "You didn't need to bring me here to prove your love for me or anything."

"I wanted to make you feel special."

"I feel like I'm competing with the restaurant and I can't measure up."

"Lizzie. I've been here a hundred times. I couldn't possibly be more bored with the restaurant. You have no competition."

"I couldn't possibly be more intimidated by the restaurant." Lizzie tilts her head. "Which actually means you have competition, I suppose."

"You _still_ find me intimidating?"

"I'm _shadowing at the company where you're CEO_ ," Lizzie replies. "Speaking of, is this above-board?"

"Our relationship?" Darcy sits back. "On your end, Dr. Gardiner seemed to be setting us up, and on my end, I'm the boss, so I think we should be able to get away with it, ultimately, since we're both of-age and consenting. I trust we'll be able to keep personal matters out of the workplace and out of your research. We are adults, after all."

Lizzie lets out a breath and nods. "Right."

Darcy leans forward. "This is a relationship, isn't it?"

Lizzie manages to laugh for the first time since entering the restaurant. "Yes. Definitely. _Finally_. I think I would have lost my mind if I'd had to go another month without seeing you."

"Was it bad? I'm sorry—I would have flown down if I'd—"

"Darcy." Lizzie puts up her hand. "Stop. I think it took me almost this long to be sure about how I felt about you. But now that I know—I don't want to spend two months apart from you again."

Darcy smiles. "I'll make sure you don't have to."

The waitress comes back then, this time with the wine Darcy ordered. She pours a small amount into Darcy's wine glass, which Darcy then swirls around, scrutinizes, sniffs, and finally drinks. "Excellent," he says, upon which cue the waitress pours full glasses for both Lizzie and Darcy.

When the waitress leaves, Lizzie says, "No wonder you didn't like Carter's, if you prefer your alcohol like this. I'm surprised you even came to the bar with Bing at all, if this is what you're used to."

"Your charm and my concern for Bing were more than impetus enough," Darcy replies.

"Are you trying to earn a 'best human' award?"

"This from the woman who once expressed incredulity that anyone would become friends with me without payment."

Lizzie covers her eyes. "Ugh, I did? Can we forget that day ever happened?"

"Hardly. It's the day we actually started communicating. Besides, we re-enacted it on video for the entire internet."

"Darcy—" Lizzie starts and then says, "Should I still be calling you that?"

"These days, the only people who don't call me that are related to me." Darcy is quiet for a moment and then says, "Try calling me William. I'd like to hear how it sounds, if you don't mind."

"William," says Lizzie. She likes the feel of the name in her mouth—though not nearly as much as she likes the feel of the name's owner's mouth against her own. "William," she repeats: "William."

Darcy is smiling. "I like it—do you?"

The waitress returns, this time bearing a tray and a collapsible tray-stand. She un-collapses the stand, sets down the tray, and serves the first course of the tasting menu: fried calamari. These are the smallest plates of calamari that Lizzie has ever seen—but then, that small size is probably the key to making it through five subsequent courses.

After the waitress picks up her tray and stand and leaves, Lizzie says, "Yes. I like your name. William."

Darcy nods at the calamari. "You know how to eat that, don't you?"

"Yeah, I've had it before."

"Good," he says. "Hopefully the hardest thing about this meal, for both of us, won't be the food; it will be not succumbing to the temptation to start kissing again."

That is indeed the hardest part.


End file.
